Friday, January 27, 2012
I tried my hand at batik during my Baroda visit in December 2011. Batik is the most adventurous and exiting technique which turns out to be just the opposite of what you thought it would look like. I did a few experiments but this one is my favorite one, a batik chai glass.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Advertising, graphic design, industrial design and many more giant words lingered all over the place when I came to Design school three years back. For me they all meant the same then. The only reason I came here was that painting was, rather is my passion and I wanted to do something that was associated with art in some way. On the first day itself there was a huge wall constructed by my professors between art and design. I sensed a conflict in opinions everywhere as far as art and design were concerned. Everyone said they are different and meant for different people. I never thought this way and hence I was very reluctant to accept art as different from design.
I came to design school with no background in design from my entire family. My entire childhood has gone amidst colors and art books, thanks to my grandfather. I was then guided by a very special person, my Guru, late Mr. Subhash Mali. My sensitivity towards art was developed in a very convincing manner by a lot of people and hence I got a little rebellious when it came to arguments related to art and design. In my initial assignments at design school, I always turned to watercolors and I found it very easy to communicate what I wanted through them. Water colors as a medium have been very close to me because of my Guru and also it’s a medium I relate to the most. It became my weak point in design school.
Artists are considered to be outcasts in design schools. I shall always stand by this opinion of mine. Because apparently artists create for themselves and designers create for the people who cannot create for themselves. It sounds rough but that’s the case. I found it very difficult to maintain my belief in my art initially because the moment I would lift my brush I was reminded that I am not in an art school and I should ideate and mind map all the time. Sketching was always encouraged but people around me left the pencils the moment the ‘user friendly’ soft wares became an integral part of our lives. More like our saviors. I continued doodling.
I walked through all my semesters, still doing what I believed in. In all my juries I was asked to join an art school. My work was always appreciated but it was referred to as art and not design. I never figured out the difference. In my mind it was all the same, as long as it communicated.
I always liked graphic design. Illustrations intrigued me. But I never took up Graphic design for my specialization. I took film instead because film is a medium that is very personal and intuitive just like art. I took my art to the next level. I took simple quotes, songs, poems and sometimes even thoughts and illustrated them in my diaries. I never felt the need to explain them to anyone because it was for me, just like my art. I took it seriously, more than what I was supposed to do. Graphic design according to me is the most difficult and challenging faculty in Design. But majority of the lot of graphic designers are within confined boxes. A box that is an end itself and not a means to an end. I kept myself updated with various aspects of illustrations. My style of illustrations is not very unique but I believe in it and hence I kept on doing it. After a point I reached at a stage where I could put my thoughts in order through illustrations.
Today as my work is featured in the only dedicated Graphic design, Branding & Communication magazine of India, The Kyoorius Design Magazine I am extremely honored by making it till here without any formal training in Illustrations. In fact according to me one cannot take education in illustrations. Illustrating something is expressing something through the most intuitive forms and elements. I am the youngest amongst the nine illustrators featured in the magazine. I am happy to get this recognition only because I kept doing what I believed in.
Some believe in God, some in God men, some don’t believe in anything. I believe in my Art.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Buried is a 2010 Spanish thriller film directed by Rodrigo Cortes staring Ryan Reynolds. I saw this film a week back and loved the way it was shot with good cinematography and thoughtful structure of the story.
We would all relate to this story not in the literal way but if you interpret it in your own life and situations you face everyday. Finally you are still lying there with many hands to help you virtually and a light that always shows you ways to choose. Remember you are still lying.
Illustration from my diary :)
Friday, January 6, 2012
I was in Vadodara in mid December for the fine arts fair at the MS University faculty of fine arts. I stayed with two dear friends Arshad and Kenry at their studio cum house (more like a studio) with Ken's fishes and other animals that live with them.
One night we were talking about Gustav Klimt, a legendary Austrian symbolist painter and while we were chatting I sketched these fishes that went round and round in the glass bottles next to us. We happened to name them after that. The black ones are Gustav and lemon tea (ken makes awesome lemon tea) and the white ones are Frida (my suggestion) and Vanilla (who is not seen because she was not visible while I sketched)
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
I traveled through Kerala early December. Here's a peep into my diary while I was there.
I was intrigued by the tikka they put on their forehead, the appetizing banana chips, the green long chilly pakodas and of- course the most prominent sight of the lungis!
I recommend Kerala to every person who sees through his heart before his eyes :)
Monday, January 2, 2012
I knew about Maharajji’s visit to Pune since a few months and ever since I was excited to see him for the first time perform live in front of me. I have no knowledge of Kathak; I have seen a few performances and enjoyed them for their simplicity and expressions. But yes as an artist I relate to it or for that matter to any art form alive.
My interview with Maharajji was scheduled on the same afternoon he landed in Pune. I was nervous and thrilled at the same time, interviewing Maharajji? I am not a trained journalist neither am I a seasoned writer. But I believe in one thing when it comes to writing: If you respect someone’s art knowing what it means to be an artist, you can never go wrong. I need not be a kathak dancer to interview him. I just need to respect his art and understand what he is trying to express through it. I express through my paintings and he expresses through his dance. It’s as simple as that.
I reached the venue much earlier and was waiting outside the green room for him. As I waited there I was continuously sketching Maharajji in my mind, how would he look? (I had seen him only in photographs). While I was almost lost in my own thoughts I could hear people around me whisper, “Maharajji has arrived.” I stood up instantly. I saw lot of people escorting him to the green room and within a few seconds he was right there, in front of me. There was silence, no one moved. His feet barely made any sound and I was still when I saw his profound eyes. They are prominent in the first sight itself. The coordinator came out and told me that he is ready for the interview but he says that if you want a good interview, you will get it after the performance. I decided to wait for the good.
I went in for his performance and grabbed a place in the front row with my camera. Until all the audience settled down there were only the musicians and technicians on the stage. I could faintly hear the sound of ghungaroos backstage. I knew Maharajji had come. The performance was commenced by Saswati Sen, Maharajji’s foremost disciple. She spoke eloquently about the basic mudras and gestures, my eyes were already glued to her expressions. After the initial performance, entered Maharajji. His voice was warm and full of depth. He addressed everyone like how one would talk to his grandchildren, so simple, so warm! I was left mesmerized by what followed.
It was 10pm in the night. Everyone followed Maharajji to the green room to take his blessings. Some went to click pictures with him while some went with their autograph books. I was waiting in the green room. Every time someone would come out after meeting him, they would exclaim joyfully. I was told that it would take time and I might have to interview him in the car. I was even more excited. After all the people met Maharajji, he and Saswatiji left for the hotel where they were staying. They asked me to come with them to the hotel. I ran towards my scooter and followed their car till the Corinthian club which was five minutes from the venue. I entered through the wrong gate and parked my bike in the middle of nowhere and ran towards the lobby. I could see him walking towards his room on the first floor. I thought this interview would never happen.
I was called by the coordinator to run to his room as soon as I could. I entered Maharajji’s suite. It had a huge drawing room where I was asked to wait. I could see him inside his room and Saswatiji was helping him remove his makeup. The television people had already entered his suite with huge lights and tripods. I still thought that my interview would not happen because these people will call him as soon as he comes out. I still waited only because Maharajji had told me that he would meet me. Maharajji finally sent for me. I was a little nervous but I was comfortable. “Aiyye baithiye”, said Maharajji as he folded his legs and sat on his bed. I could not believe that he had called me inside his room and more than that to sit with him on his bed. I started with the interview instantly. Saswatiji added her opinions too in the interview. It went on for twenty minutes, all this time the rest of the world did not exist for me. I could hear only his voice and I was trying very hard to believe that I was sitting right in front of him. After I was done Maharajji exclaimed humorously, “Ho bhi gaya!”
I was touched by his modesty. He gave a warm hug as I touched his feet and I was left overwhelmed by every word of his. I couldn’t have asked for more that day. I left the hotel at 12am in the night and throughout the road to my house I could only think of him. What a lovely human being and I got to know something new about him that made me relate to him immediately; that he too is a painter.