Celebrating the guru-shishya tradition in art
As I write this on the occasion of Guru Purnima, some thoughts and memories waft across the canvas of my mind. The foremost being the gargantuan role of a guru in one’s spiritual and academic growth. It is no wonder that in the scriptures the guru has been accorded the highest place — so much so that a doha says: “Guru Gobind dono khade, ka ke lagun paon? Balihari guru aapki jo Gobind deeyo milaye...loosely translated, it means my guru and Lord Krishna were standing next to each other and I was in a quandary as to whose feet do I touch first...salutations to you my Guru, for introducing me to Krishna.
A cherished memory is of spending Guru Purnima in Maheshwar with a few students of the National School of Drama on the banks of river Narmada. They were part of an extension workshop that I was covering and at the end of the day they put up a fabulous programme dedicated to their gurus as the moon shimmered on the dark water and made it glow. Unforgettable.
I think the performing arts and traditional arts still uphold the place of the guru for without the margdarshan or pathpradarshan of the gurus it would be impossible to move forward. And the shastras reiterate that a guru can come to you in any age, form or time. Often since we meet our guru in the most unlikely place we don’t recognise the guru, even if he or she is right there, so the idea is to remain tuned into that frequency to keep learning anew all the time.
Recently I saw a show of Anand Moy Banerji, who is a teacher who could win any favourite guru-shishya contest hands down. And unlike many gurus whose own art takes a back seat and tends to become juvenile over the years, he has been able to protect his work and take it forward in the most elegant manner — rather like the person that he is. The artist prefers to describe himself a human landscapist, is having a solo exhibition of his paintings and prints that will run till May 16 at the Lalit Kala Akademi, New Delhi.
For the last two years, Banerji has been experimenting with what he calls human landscapes. “It is like revisiting your roots; landscapes that were inspired by my tutor. Only that my landscapes are devoted to human beings as an integral part,” he says.
The “landscapes” are committed to the human figure as a fundamental component. The human is in synchronisation with other humans and surroundings. Over time, Banerji’s canvasses are animated with bold strokes of figures dominating the landscape, with “hopeful eyes, sometimes in contemplation, sometimes lying in coital embrace, and at times in a state of disharmony. The figures are bound by a ribbon or maybe it is gift wrapped that the viewer needs to untie to let loose the supine figures. His canvasses speak of eternal hope, of a lurking feeling that a harmonious co-existence between nature and between, is just around the bend.”
Banerji’s palette of colours has evolved with time and is now in almost translucent layers unlike his previous series of works. They are richly textured with evocative figures and have immense possibilities. The hues have deepened and the charcoal blacks in the ochre and rust reds are replete with depth. Over the years, Banerji’s works have undergone several changes of techniques and thematic possibilities. He has consciously sought to define himself as an artist with a constructive role to play in the society. He and his works underscore the social milieu.
He and I have grown up in the same part of Delhi as children and perhaps I instinctively understand his journey and the reference points. Like me, he too had a very dedicated father who was ever willing to support, encourage and support his children in their journey of art — taking him to participate in art competitions and allowing him to become whatever he chose to
be. As a child, Banerji once ran away from home in a quest for the “beautiful” — perhaps he has found the “beautiful.”
And Banerji was fortunate enough to have the great water colour master and landscape maestro Abani Sen as his guru. Not surprisingly, Banerji’s work in the 70s and the early 80s was mostly landscapes. Subsequently he has been very fortunate to be blessed by gurus like Anupam Sud, K.G. Subramanyan, Somenath Hore and Sanat Kar who have shared their knowledge with immense love that shines through in his work and in his persona. And he, in turn, is passing it on to his students. His stay in Santiniketan brought a radical change in his perception. Immersed in the elements of nature, he gained cognisance that helped him see objects that he previously considered dead and inanimate, as throbbing with life and having an individuality of their own.
Returning to Delhi, in 1985, portraying life assumed the centre stage in Banerji’s works. The change from Santiniketan’s isolated rural setting to the urban chaos of Delhi had a direct impact on his work. Headlines on daily atrocities lead him to pour out his feelings through a number of prints in a series. The earlier works of the artist from the series “Today” and “Temptations” were an analytical approach towards a human being’s craving for power.
He travelled on this road for a few years alog with a broader perspective and outlook, which slowly became more universal. Banerji’s recent works are concentrated on exploring themes that are a reflection of his personal life. The recurring images in his recent works are “Performers”, “Reflections”, “Entwined” and “His/Her World”, no matter whether they are construed to be political, religious, social or romantic. It is an attempt to explore universal feelings and relations both as a guru and a practising artist.
I think the performing arts and traditional arts still uphold the place of the guru for without the margdarshan or path-pradarshan of the gurus it would be impossible to move forward.