A Different Canvas

Over the years, I have visited the Mehtas in Mumbai and they have often had to put aside their painting paraphernalia in their simple one-bedroom flat to roll out a bed for my night8217;s stay. I have seen canvases at different stages and at times tried to probe the artist8217;s mind. But the self-effacing Mehta would rather talk about the book he was reading or the latest play or movie he had seen.

Films being a shared passion, an evening with Uncle Tyeb invariably centres round the latest Hollywood, and Bollywood, blockbusters. He8217;ll tell stories about the days when M F Husain and he used to go to see the first day8217;s first show of any new release. A film with Mumtaz was never to be missed and often repeated. His family, in fact, owned a chain of cinema theatres, so images from this magical world form part of his earliest memories. After college, Mehta even worked as an assistant film editor, and it was with the intention of becoming an art director in films that he joined the J J School of Art in Mumbai.

It was during this time that Mehta met Husain, S. H. Raza, Alyque Padamsee, Krishen Khanna and other young artists who were then trying to understand the world of paintings. Mehta became part of the close-knit Progressive Artists Group that saw a long struggle at a time when art alone did not make for easy survival. Nor was work all about media hype and there were no market demands to be dictated by.

Today, when art is a mart, when people discuss prices and sizes, Sotheby8217;s and the sex appeal of painters, when quality is the last consideration guiding evaluations, Mehta is the outsider. He still paints and lives by his own rules, continuing to be propelled by a concern for human tragedy. I have never known him to seek media attention or give in to market pressures. Neither does he highlight current events and themes just to be able to make news.

Powerful emotional content, control of strong colours and images of the trussed bull, falling figures and untold stories of sorrow remain Mehta8217;s hallmark. He8217;s a man who rejects the farce that the art world has become. He is the eternal subaltern of the alternative canvas of India. He is not about fashion, but passion, not about felicity, but firm beliefs.

Ironically, he8217;s hotly pursued by socialites who happily embrace the alternative vision of the real world that is so alien to them. Still, he8217;s painting less and less of what they want more and more. This artist paints for everyman, not for the market. It is not Mehta who sells, but his insight into a world that we would all pretend does not exist. For the likes of us who have never looked at other worlds, or other lives, beyond our routines, it8217;s a always a pleasure to know or possess a Tyeb Mehta.