Leaving a mark
If Indian printmakers were asked to name one person who has most influenced their career, chances are they would point to Krishna Reddy, who not only trained many of them, but whose technique of viscosity printmaking has been his singular contribution to the practice while simultaneously making it cheaper. It has long been a grudge that not only is a printmaker’s medium usually more expensive than that of a painter’s (this generalisation is not always true), the returns are a minuscule of what other artists might expect (this is usually true). While some printmakers have broken through to command doubledigit prices (in millions of rupees), Reddy, at least, can take credit for inspiring and teaching Indian printmakers in Paris, the US and at workshops in India, offering practical advice while striving for respect.
Realising early that struggling printmakers found the frequent change of plates for every addition of colour unaffordable, he created an alternative where different colours could be simultaneously printed, thereby reducing costs while adding a level of complexity to the work. His contribution continues to be popular decades after he had conceived it in Paris’s Atelier 17 where he was both student and, later, teacher as well as principal, meeting, among others, Alberto Giacometti, Alexander Calder, Pablo Picasso, Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock. Here, he trained several Indian artists, famously Zarina Hashmi as well, who too came to reside, like him, in New York and, like Reddy again, commands the highest prices in Indian printmaking.
Reddy, who died this week in New York, had been unwell for a while and had disappeared from public view. Ironically, the visibility of his work has gained currency in this decade, in exhibitions as well as at auctions, finding him a market among a younger generation of millennial collectors who continue to be struck by the quality of his work. An abstract printmaker for the most part, Reddy’s choice of subject straddled two interests— nature on the one hand, and the universe on the other, often coming together, though his best-known Clown series was a result of a visit to a circus in the company of his daughter.
Despite the obvious hardships a printmaker faces, the medium and its artists continue to make a name for themselves against these odds. India can certainly boast a string of names of those who have made their presence felt in the field. West Bengal, in particular, became the seat for popular printmaking, and most artists who trained there went through the rigours of printmaking, of whom Haren Das and Mukul Dey most come to mind for their sustained efforts to ensure its longevity and practice. Chittaprosad too came to be recognised as an eminent printmaker, and his linocuts now enjoy a cult following.
Those early, trained printmakers made way for others such as Somnath Hore, who recorded in his “sculpture-like” prints made of casts, highly collectible works recording the horrors of violence, whether manmade or natural. In Baroda, Jyoti Bhatt, Arun Bose in Kolkata and Anupam Sud in New Delhi, are acknowledged for their work, while a younger generation continues to seek validation in the medium: Jaipur’s Shail Choyal, Kolkata’s Paula Sengupta, New Delhi’s Dattatreya Apte, Kavita Nayar and Anandmoy Banerjee, Chennai’s R Palaniappan, as also guilds or their contemporary equivalents elsewhere in the country.
But if printmaking itself continues to languish in India, blame needs to be apportioned to both galleries that chase big bucks and refrain from including printmakers in their shows, as well as collectors who fail to understand that a print too is an “original”. They might do no better than to look at Reddy’s legacy. With his rising values, he will continue to be the guiding force that Indian printmaking needs — now, as before.