Anjolie Ela Menon’s works Divine Mothers Series – I (Parvati).
Anjolie Ela Menon, one of the country’s leading contemporary artists, returned with a solo show, “Recent Works”, after five years. Her work at Vadehra Art Gallery showcases luminous oils on Masonite. “I still stick to paintings and oils, maybe I am a dinosaur and extinct. Yet I like the gravitas of oils to create the mood and posture,” says Menon. She talks to Pallavi Chattopadhyay about veering towards public art, combining fantasy and reality and the contemporary Indian art scene. Excerpts:
You have a mural at Delhi airport’s Terminal 3 and an ongoing project for the Mumbai airport. Do you now enjoy working more on publicart projects?
Many of my works disappear into private collections and I never get to see them again. So I would like to dedicate the last few years of my career towards public art.
Your latest show has a few works that are a continuation of the Divine Mother series. Tell us about that.
This series is timely because at the moment, we are becoming more aware of women’s rights. On one hand, we worship the mother goddess figure, be it in the form of Devi, Parvati, Maya , Durga, Lakshmi or Mary, but look at the way we treat women in our society. We tend to denigrate them in real life and treat them as lesser beings.
The work titled Divine Mothers Series – I (Parvati) depicts the elephant-head boy Ganesha yearning for his mother’s love, as a severed head lies in a corner. What was the idea behind this?
While depicting the birth of Ganesha, the severed head of the child is never shown in mythology but I depicted it graphically as a symbol of the mother’s anguish. Of course, Shiva gave Ganesha to Parvati, but the act of severing the child’s head is very devastating for a mother. But if you see her face, there is a sense of acceptance. Is that acceptance of violation a part of our culture? In India, women are known to have taken everything silently, subsuming their pain. This has been symbolic of their endurance in the face of terrible suffering.
Upanayanam shows the thread ceremony of a boy in a south Indian household, with half-nude women figures. What is the idea?
My paintings are a combination of fantasy and reality. They are not always rooted in reality. I don’t dress my people in costumes but in nebulous garments or sometimes in no garments. I don’t want them to be rooted in any time or place. There is an enigma in my art, where people are located both in time and space, which may not be logical.
What inspires you?
You never know where the inspiration is coming from. I am constantly inspired by the things I see outside my studio in Nizamuddin basti. It is a small village surrounded by the city. Though the metropolis is all around, the village retains its own character — its colours, its people, its papadwalas and its knife sharpers. Much like a living thing, there is theatre, be it a fight, or a procession or the way Holi is celebrated.
How would you compare Delhi as a cultural hub to Mumbai today?
Delhi has become quite significant now. For many years, Mumbai was the hub of the modern art movement, where it took place. Now the focus has shifted to the place from where patronages emerge, much like the one in Kochi. In Delhi, we have the National Gallery of Modern Art, the Lalit Kala Akademi and many other institutions, where most artists aspire to exhibit.
What are your views on the current contemporary art scene in India?
The last decade has been very important, with so many artists presenting cutting-edge works. There has been a breakdown of barriers between painting, sculpture, photography, installations and video art. There is a lot happening now which at one time would not have been classified as art. I like the works of Manjunath Kamath, Subodh Gupta, Jitish Kallat, Bose Krishnamachari, Atul Dodiya and many other young artists, who have all contributed towards this revolution, which is making waves on the global scene.


