He made history, painting it on canvas and in colour
Much of our concept of history and mythology is rooted in the stories we heard or some immortal paintings and marble sculptures we saw in our formative years besides books and movies. The images of The Last Supper, The Death of Socrates or The Pieta, to cite a few, immediately flash in the mind whenever we come across references to these incidents of the past. However, Punjab could lay claim to no such images till Sardar Kirpal Singh, the upcoming artist of the 1960s who had just completed his masters in history, thought of depicting it on canvas and in colour.
His conspicuous white turban over a jet-black cloak attracted the attention of whoever watched him in the Golden Temple parikarma proceeding to his studio-cum-gallery called Central Sikh Museum on the first floor of the just completed Ghantaghar side entrance to Harmandar Sahib. The Shiromani Gurdwara Parbandhak Committee (SGPC) generously gave him a muchneeded break and he more than met their hopes.
His huge canvasses, some as large as 8’x5’, depicting Mughal oppressions and their torture machines, and the tragic scenes at Chandni Chowk gained immediate acceptance among the masses. You could now witness framed history on canvas. It was a true-to-life depiction of the history cited in the daily Sikh ‘ardaas’ or prayer. His biggest, creation, I think, was the splendour of the darbar of Maharaja Ranjit Singh depicted in the minutest detail, including a hunted tiger, and the one showing warrior Baba Deep Singh in the battlefield.
Occasional foreign tourists clicking pictures of the main Harmandar Sahib didn’t know about the museum. Photography was strictly prohibited there. But then, a friend of ours, who had flown to Pittsburgh for PHD and had been feeling a tad homesick, sent me a 35-mm cassette of Kodachrome colour film for taking photos of the precious paintings. In Amritsar, few photographers had used, or heard, about colour films back then. So, I took it as a challenge and approached Kirpal Singh with the plan. He readily agreed and offered all help. But then most cameras those days didn’t have exposure meters. Even the distance of the object had to be measured and set on the lens. Flashlights using magnesium bulbs produced unacceptable colours in prints.
The only option, I thought, was using sunlight that was available only on the terrace. I’m still amazed to recall the curator generously permitted that and also provided the required labour. Incredible, but the monstrous ‘Don’t touch’ paintings, were dusted and taken out, one by one and lifted to the terrace by cotton ropes and photographed in four or five days. Then the cassette was sent to M/s Mahata & Co. in Connaught Place, Delhi, for development. Fortunately, all negatives came out well and I posted them to our friend for making multiple prints.
The painter, who had meanwhile resigned from the SGPC, was now too eager to have a miniature album of his masterpieces. I reminded my friend many times and he always wrote that he was too busy in his research but would certainly bring the same when he came to India. After a long wait, we were excited that he was coming and that we would finally have an album of history. But no such thing happened. He merely said he had lost the negatives and was sorry for that. I often reminisce of the risk we took, the patience and effort we put in. The artist is gone but not before he had introduced this theme and medium to others of his ilk who developed it further. He made history by painting it.
PUNJAB COULD LAY CLAIM TO NO SUCH IMAGES TILL SARDAR KIRPAL SINGH, THE UPCOMING ARTIST OF THE 1960S WHO HAD JUST COMPLETED HIS MASTERS IN HISTORY, THOUGHT OF DEPICTING IT