To Shankar Natrajan

Two shows and a lot of talk. I was happy to be there for attending both the openings. One is Chintan Upadhyay’s ‘Tentua Dabaa Do’ at Jawahar Kala Kendra, Jaipur presented by Ashish Balram Nagpal Galleries. The other one is curated by Bose Krishnamachari titled ‘SPY’ at Museum Gallery, Mumbai, presented by the Guild Gallery.

This column, at times is severely criticized by friends for making my observations sound like gossips. Let me tell you gossips have a truth value in them especially when someone who makes a true but sweeping statement does not want to be known as the author of that particular statement. My job is to catch and contain the truth apparently embedded in the general talks that I listen while being in the company of friends. These days friends tell me, ‘Johny, whatever we said just now is off the record’ or ‘Beware of this guy. He is going to write it somewhere.’ What to do? I am a chronicler of events in Indian contemporary art and I am bound to see the embedded truths in general talks.

Tom and Jerry, the famous cartoon characters have taught me something about true friendship. You can be critical in the severest sense but you need each other. Without Tom there is no Jerry and without Jerry there is no Tom. This mutuality is what I see in the relationship between Chintan Upadhyay and Bose Krishnamachari. They are severely critical of each other’s works. They appreciate and raise criticism. But they respect each other and value each other. Without this mutuality, they find it difficult to function. Hence, I call them the ‘Tom and Jerry’ of Indian art scene. Who doesn’t love a pair of Tom and Jerry?

Bose, despite his breakneck schedule came to attend the opening of Tentua Dabaa Do in Jaipur. Sanjeev Khandekar and Riyas Komu too came from Mumbai. Delhi friends of Chintan outnumbered his Mumbai comrades. Manjunath Kamath, Veer Munshi, Atul Bhalla, Subodh Gupta, G.R.Iranna and myself went to Jaipur from Delhi.

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Atul Bhalla is comfortable at the steering wheel of his WagonR, in which myself, Manjunath and Veer Munshi find seats to Jaipur. Manjunath’s quirky sense of humor comes out once we entered the Delhi-Jaipur Highway. “It was here last week former Chief Minister of Delhi, Sahib Singh Verma met with a fatal accident,” says Manjunath. Suddenly we all are silent for a moment. “It is true that when we commence a long journey, we are reminded of that ‘thing’ called death,” Veer Munshi says.

Then rings someone’s mobile. Curt answers and matter of fact dealing. “Must be your wife’s call,” I say. It is like that. At times calls from wives and pressing art dealers are equally dealt with; curt, short but correctly nuanced. Many mobiles develop ‘out of range’, ‘out of battery’, ‘no network’, ‘your sound is breaking’ problems in these situations. One can easily make out who is calling and what is being talked. If someone talks to their wives sweetly while being away and someone else mentions it, there comes a sudden rejoinder, “karna padta hai yaar.’ These days male artists are over working on their public and private relation skills. They are not being disloyal to anyone. But ‘karna padta hai yaar.’

“Will the art market bubble burst?” asks Manjunath when we are sitting in a way side restaurant. No it is not going to burst. Art market is taking a new turn. There is a visible shift from the exhibition of works of art to art funds. Works of art have become just emblematic materials to produce capital and profit. Art funds are designed to save both the artists and investors from making losses. The art funds say, “Come to us. Give your works to us. We will find the right curators and we will promote you. We will give your profits. You need not worry about what you are buying and what you are selling. You need not even know you are buying art.” Those who buy equity bonds sometimes do not even know why this bond is better than the other. There are advisers and consultants. Art funds are now consulting agencies. There are even artists’ pension funds.

We agree with each other. That’s why when scribes call the artists to know what is going to happen in Indian art market someone feels like saying, “Nothing is going to happen. Everyone is happy. You see I have bought a big house, a big car and I have a big bank balance. What is your problem? If none is giving any damn to my art and only talking about the money I got from the market, I would say nothing is going to happen and I will not allow anything to happen to the market,” says one of us. May be this is what most of the sensible artists would say after they cut the scribes’ phone calls.

Those people at the helms of the art funds and pension funds demand like Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, ‘Tum mujhe Khoon Do, Mein Tujhe Aazadi doonga.’ (You give me your blood, I will give you freedom)- I heard that somebody would like to use this line for the advertisement of some sanitary napkin. Art fund people say, “You give us your works. We will give you freedom from worry.” In Delhi there was one artist namely Manohar Devlalikar. He died in penury. None cared. We have an art critic R.S.Yadav, who spent his whole life on reviewing Delhi’s exhibitions. Now he sleeps in Lalit Kala Academy lawns with a few tabloids tucked under his head. If you are serious about saving the artists and art workers, please tell us whether you got any plans for this kind of people who are dying in penury because they believed in art.

Are we agitated? No we are having fun. In Jaipur Chintan is busy with his display. Designed by Charles Correa, Jawahar Kala Kendra is the hub of cultural activities in Jaipur. However, the first floor gallery called Char Dic (Four Directions) is badly designed with no provision for air circulation and floors with marble lines. But Chintan takes the disadvantages in his stride. The display is very good though everyone is sweating.

Then come Bose Krishnamachari and Riyas Komu. The humidity levels are so high that Riyas Komu finds his T-Shirt and Shirt signature style combination a burden. This man who is internationally acclaimed with his Venice Biennale debut simply removes his shirt and wipes his face with it. Then he folds it and keeps it under his arms. I like that spirit. Bose is high on his red pants and specs with white frames. And all of us go to meet Himmat Shah, who is now settled in Jaipur.

Himmat Shah has a huge house in the city. He has two expensive cars parked in the drive way. He has just come back from London after a knee replacement surgery. He invites all of us in and offers us beer and copies of his latest catalogue. He looks very happy and like a child he talks about the facilities in London. He advised all of us visit London at least once in our life time. Bose tries to say that that all of us have gone there. But Himmat Shah is not ready to listen that. He does not make anymore sculptures. “I sell all what I have made so far,” he says. Suddenly Bose, Riyas and Manju fish out their cameras and start clicking pictures of the master artist and the artist transforms into a performer. On the way back I ask Riyas for his sudden interest in Himmat Shah’s portraits. “We never know,” Riyas says. A tongue in cheek answer.

Chintan’s opening rocks. From his native village of Parthapur around fifty people have come to see the show and the gesture of the villagers surprises Chintan. The city’s art lovers turn up in hordes. Chintan has dealt with the female foeticide issue in Rajasthan in his works. So the media is interested. Young reporters wait for their turn to interview Chintan. So many art students are there to see the show. Thanks to media they all have seen the celebrities in picture. Now they are there- Bose, Subodh, Riyas, Chintan live. They come and smile at them politely.

Subodh Gupta is irritated because one newspaper has misquoted him. “It sounds as if I have talked only about money. I have talked about the callousness showed by the NGMA in the case of Venice Biennale. The paper has not published that at all.” Riyas seconds Subodh as he too is a victim of selective editing. “Who will talk about NGMA?” asks Riyas. “Girish Shahane has done a good job at it,” I say. Everyone agrees. The NGMA should be revamped. But who will bell the cat? “Only artists can do it now,” says Riyas. But for that the artists should come together. For the time being they are all busy. “Okay, make me the director of NGMA. I will bring in qualitative changes,” I say. Later at night Riyas says, “This guy has started having visions.” Did he mean hallucinations?

It is a long party at night. Curatorial practice is the topic of a heated discussion. Bose is very critical of rumor curation, which means curators putting up shows according to the market’s needs. “Why most of the Indian curators are not able to put up shows that have international quality? Why Indian curators are not invited by the international art community to do shows?” asks Bose. Very pivotal questions these are indeed. “You hold a big power in your hand, Bose. So you are able to do it. Many young curators have not got that kind of power. We need to empower the young curators,” says Subodh Gupta. And also he requests Bose to curate a show in Bihar.

I am trained in curatorial practice in Goldsmiths College, London. Time and again I have said that the skills that they give to curators are of no use in India as the material reality is totally different here from that of the West. Everyone agrees but everyone looks forward to a change. “Considering the realities and also going by what I have learned from the West, I would say there are only three curators in India who could propose, plan, find fund and execute projects. They are Puja Sood, Bose Krishnamachari and Chintan Upadhyay,” I say. There is no heavy opposition from anyone. They all think for a while and the idea sinks in and makes sense. To ease the situation I ask Bose to make me his agent in North India, which he flatly refuses. Then around four O’clock in the morning we all become temporary dead bodies after talking so many things, which are quite usual in stag parties and unusual in chronicling.

There in Mumbai it is SPY opening. Bose is still putting up things when I enter the gallery as an early bird thinking that I would get good worms. I see the works. What a show! It is the best curated show so far in 2007. I stand silently behind Bose and watch what he does. This man has got an eye to catch the young talents and has a great sense of design. Bose’s mobile rings and he says very seriously, “Yes…I am still curating it…It will open at 6.30.” Then he turns and finds me. I smile. He is slightly embarrassed for using that word ‘curating’ out of context. Now he is in a pair of yellow trousers. People have already started coming in and the watchman finds it difficult to stop the people despite the notice ‘WE ARE STILL AT WORK’ on the glass door. Everyone seems to be very important except for a few art critics who are silently watching the works and designing words.

Bose takes me to the Courtyard where all the designers have set up their showrooms. He needs to buy a shirt as the one that he wears looks drenched in ‘curatorial’ sweat. We enter the Narendra Kumar showroom. He chooses a black jacket and asks for a smaller one and says, “I am small.” “Charlie Chaplin was also small,” I say. He pays up and picks up the bag and walks out followed by me. I feel myself a body guard to Bose and I don’t mind to play one provided it pays well.

“Why is it called SPY?” I ask Bose in the car. “Artists are an intelligent lot. They with their superior intelligence spy on themselves and the others. They do it with a power, which is benevolent unlike the power of the state. They can penetrate into the things happening around and make intelligent comments on that. Spy does not connote its conventional meaning. I am reinterpreting the artists’ position as spies,” Bose explains. Yes it makes sense. “I thought that it is Specially Produced for You,” I say and we have a good laugh over it.

Prasad Raghavan, Dia Mehta, Simrin Mehra and C.K.Rajan are the artists in the SPY show. Prasad, a Delhi based designer has done a set of really impressive works using his designer skills. He reinterprets the film posters using a new graphic system of representation and they function as strong political critique. C.K.Rajan uses small news photographs and collages them with extrapolated images and speech bubbles that ironically comment on the socio-political ills. Dia Mehta catches up with the desire in human mind using a mannequin as an emblematic female body and the focal point of male desires. Simrin Mehra takes up urbanization as an issue in her texturally crafted paintings and they show the crisis and amalgamation of nature and culture.

Later there is a party at the Joss, a usual party joint for Bose’s openings. And someone says that it is Bose’ birthday. Bose is thrown up in the air by friends. His assistants stand on watch and assure that their mentor is not landed heavily on the wooden floorboard. Against the blaring of dance beats, everyone is talking. Most of them look like hugging each other as they need to talk things really into the other’s ears to make it audible. Then most of them are dancing.

I look at those friends who dance well. I look at those friends who don’t dance. I look at my friend Shankar Natarajan. He studied art in Chennai and art criticism in Baroda. Now he works as a photographer for galleries and architects in Mumbai. For some strange reason I like him. I feel that he has potential and original thinking. And these days I am meeting so many people like him.