Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Kalamkari
Monday, April 28, 2008
An Artist in the Family
In the year 1990, at the age of 61, my Aunt, Padma, was felled by a stroke that left her paralysed on her left side. The fact that she pulled through and retrieved sufficient motor function through seven years of rehabilitative therapy, left her convinced that there was some divine dispensation in this, and perhaps some unfinished work remained for her to complete.
She had been a painter and the only activity that was really open to her, given her physical condition, was to return to her paint brushes again.
"Flowers are the smile of the Divine", said the Mother of Pondicherry. At a time when I saw only colour and beauty in flowers, I owe it to her that she opened my eyes to their divinity." Being a devotee of the Mother from Aurobindo Ashram, it was as if Padma was called to make this the theme of a series of paintings on flowers that figure so prominently in the Indian religious ritual.
The paintings were displayed in an Exhibition in the Shrishti Gallery at Hotel Chola Sheraton, Chennai, from the 4th. to the 9th. April, 1999, under the thematic title "A Divine Thought - Flowers for Deities".
My inspiration comes from.........
My Mother, who encouraged me to dress 'differently' !! For a person who came from a traditional Tam-Bram family, she was fine when I wanted to wear sleeveless cholis with my sarees or jeans or skirts as long as the 'look' was tasteful. As I grew older and moved to the USA, she and I collaborated on a collection of Tanjore paintings together. She cooked, kept house and raised two children. She wrote. She also had artistic talent, but never pursued it fully. But from her, I learnt how to search for excellence in the things I did, however mundane they were.
My maternal Aunt, Padma, a rebel, an artist, a painter, a poet....I could go on and on. She was a self-taught painter who had numerous art exhibitions all over India. Her last two exhibitions, however, were remarkable, as she worked on them after recovering from a debilitating stroke. From her I have learnt to be courageous and be persistent, how to laugh. She always encouraged me to strike out and do what I wanted to do because, as she put it, I have the 'eye' for such things.
Kausalya Aunty, my mother's childhood friend, from whom I heard countless tales of princely families, where women were cloistered behind 'purdah', even in the Hindu families. She used to have a saree shop when I was in college, where they sold Venkatgiri cottons, Kotahs, and mulls, with the most exquisite block prints. She pioneered the use of Kalamkaari on cotton sarees and made it chic among the young college crowd in Madras in those days. She went on to design the most amazing pieces of jewellery where she took old pieces and re-interpreted them in modern ways, while retaining their old-world charm. More than anyone else, she has fashioned my sensibilities towards textile arts and jewellery. And above all, I have admired her grace and strength.