‘Art doesn’t always lie in great subjects’: Atul Dodiya

Atul Dodiya, Untitled, 2020-2021, Watercolour on paper, Courtesy : Artist (Credit: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, New Delhi)

We see a lot of nature and some faceless figures in the exhibition. Tell us about them.

Perhaps, since I was not able to go to nature, I was bringing nature into my room, in my painting. We so often seek peace and comfort in nature; we travel to places to feel close to nature. For this set of works, I was not really taking direct inspiration from any source, but the application in some places did remind me of Bengal masters such as Rabindranath Tagore, Nandalal Bose, Benode Behari Mukherjee, who were close to nature and often painted their surroundings in Santiniketan. I have chosen to keep the figures largely anonymous, with little clothing and no faces. There is a simplicity in the manner in which I worked on them, which reminds me of my favourite pre-Renaissance masters — the simplification of the figure, the clarity of the drawn line that you see in (Italian artists) Fra Angelico, Piero della Francesca and Giotto, who have had a profound effect on my work. Art doesn’t always lie in a great subject matter.

Atul Dodiya, Untitled, 2020-2021, Watercolour on paper, Courtesy : Artist (Credit: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, New Delhi)

There is a figure of an artist with a brush in several watercolours. Is that you? You have previously painted self-portraits.

The watercolours have a figure with a brush and palette, and if you feel he is a painter, and that is me, then probably it is. A large canvas has an expectation and I did not want to impose any weight of reference, history or culture in these works. Picasso once said, each painting is a self-portrait because it depicts what one is thinking, even if it is still life. I also feel that self-portraits are difficult and require courage. There has to be a reason to do one. Some of the best self-portraits are by Rembrandt — the treatment of the skin in oil paint is remarkable and the way he depicted light on the face generates an emotion which he probably felt within. You recognise the likeness of a painter, but it is not the likeness which we are admiring in a self-portrait by Rembrandt, (Vincent) van Gogh or Paul Cézanne. The works are not illustrative or formal studies, but generate more complex emotional parallels. When I saw the Hindi film Baazigar (1993) poster, I immediately wanted to do a self-portrait. I took pictures of myself with a toy gun, with glasses that reflected images of Bhupen Khakhar and David Hockney, my first inspirations.

Atul Dodiya, Untitled, 2020-2021, Watercolour on paper, Courtesy : Artist (Credit: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, New Delhi)

I believe you also watched a lot of world cinema during the pandemic.

During the pandemic, we watched films by Federico Fellini, Ingmar Bergman, Jean-Luc Godard, Michelangelo Antonioni, Satyajit Ray. Anju and I used to be part of several film clubs during our art-school days. We were big film buffs and attended film festivals. Our daughter (Biraaj) recently introduced us to new names and new types of cinema, of filmmakers such as Wong Kar-wai, Chantal Akerman, Agnès Varda, of whom I was not aware of. While watching these, at times, I would take photographs of a paused scene and study it later to see if I could use any element in my paintings.

I have also rediscovered Radio Ceylon and listen to it from 6 to 8, every morning. If I hear a new song or something I like, I write it down. I now have a list of 200-300 in my diary. In fact, during the pandemic I also worked on something radically different for a private commission at Rajesh Khanna’s old house in Bandra, Aashirwad. I created A Shrine for Rajesh Khanna with shutter paintings and photographs of the actor, as a homage to the superstar. I rewatched several of his films, such as Raaz (1967), Andaaz (1971), Anand (1971) and Amar Prem (1972). At the same time, I was also working on another film project based on more serious cinema, such as Mani Kaul’s Uski Roti (1969), Duvidha (1973) and MS Sathyu’s Garm Hava (1974).

Atul Dodiya, Untitled, 2020-2021, Watercolour on paper, Courtesy : Artist (Credit: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, New Delhi)

The exhibition also has mythological works. Have you referred to mythology previously in your work? Are you wary of such depictions, given how there have been controversies in the past?

I have done a Mahalakshmi shutter, but this is probably the first. The works are based on stories of Krishna that I have heard. A historian, theorist or philosopher would tackle mythology differently, but, as an artist, I haven’t really delved deep into the original source. At times, you lose the creative impulse if you focus on documentation. I have also done some oil paint on laminate and watercolours on the 10 avatars of Vishnu, which I haven’t shown yet. There is certainly a tension that we see around religion now, so one is cautious of what one is painting. But I choose to do what I learnt from Tyeb Mehta. He painted what he wanted. So, he had Durga and Kali, but also the demon, Mahishasura.