
Satish Gujral, as they say, has been there, done that: at 77, he can look back on a life of constant artistic evolution since his first show in Delhi in 1952, which legendary critic Charles Fabri hailed as the work of a genius. His enthusiasm is a lesson for the jaded. But look closer: it is the steady hand of the craftsman, the rigorous scrutiny of detail that marks his painting, sculpture and architecture. In his recent paintings, he has overlapped one image over another, unleashing a third new energy. His bronze sculptures have an accidentally invented patina of oxidised gold. Poised to open a new show at New Delhi8217;s India Habitat Centre on October 6, the outspoken artist roils up at the death of intellectual honesty to Renuka Narayanan.
Q: Why do artists talk so much about their work? Why are words, not work alone, an interface between our eyes and your heads?
In fact, painters are not men of action but men of feeling. Many artists can8217;t tell what they feel in words. That8217;s why they need to paint or sculpt. Far back in the 20th century, the English art critic Herbert Reed was the first to recognise sculptor Henry Moore. As modern art exploded in Europe, it was Reed who projected Moore and turned him into an icon. Once, a journalist from the Guardian asked Moore to explain his work. After the interview was printed, a reader wrote that each word that he spoke was written by Reed. Five years after this incident, I asked Moore if this was true. He could not deny it, that reader had traced it word for word. Since then, it8217;s as though people want to hear art rather than see it, or see music rather than hear it. But effort is needed to engage with any work of thought.
Q: Yet, you have famously worked with the extremely vocal and flamboyant Mexican painter, Diego Rivera.
Actually, my idol was Orozco. The other two great Mexican artists of the 50s were Rivera and Sequeiros. Orozco died a few months before I arrived but he was the one I liked best. The other two were very vocal in propagating Marxism in every word they spoke and sometimes in their painting. They also projected themselves a lot, often through fictitious tales. But Orozco spit on every 8216;8216;ism8217;8217;. He once said, 8216;8216;Artists don8217;t believe in isms. They are an ism in themselves8217;8217;. He decried his 8216;8216;revolutionary8217;8217; image: 8216;8216;I was so frightened, I took no part, but hid in a brothel. Because I painted prostitutes, everyone praised my empathy for the underclass. But there was nothing else to paint8217;8217;. I am therefore very anti the point that great ideas make great art. It is great artists who make great art.
Q: But so many artists collectively paint on given themes today: Egypt, AIDS, Gujarat. Why don8217;t you?
Though my own beginnings were as a Marxist, I never let it affect my work. My Partition paintings in 1947 were born of direct experience. Human misery was in everyone8217;s mind then. For six months I helped my father help people escape and saw more bloodshed than anyone should see. Like others, I thought I was painting man8217;s pitfalls. But much later, with hindsight, when I try to analyse it, I feel Partition provided me with a theme to express my own inner frustration at being pushed into a world of silence. I feel, if there had been no Partition, I might have created one: the outer world cannot create compulsions. It has to come from within.
Q: When many artists tend to project the darker side, why does your work seem to do the opposite?
During the years of Punjab terrorism, a newspaper in the Punjab said I should paint the misery of the Punjab as I did in 8217;47. I wrote back that they were mistaken about the role of an artist. He is not a chronicler of moments lived by a nation, but of what happens inside himself. Remember the Russian novel? It was the greatest form of any time. But after the Revolution it was reduced to propaganda: it was no longer personal. Dogmas become dated. True feeling liberates you!
Q: How come you keep experimenting while others stay stuck?
Artists are afraid to change style because it becomes a brand. Forty years ago, I too was afraid, but I have jumped so many media. But 50 per cent of work is craftsmanship. Every art needs a skill. As they say: Dushname-e-yaar tabah hazing par grah nahin/Ai ham nasheen nizakat-e-awaz dekhnaM. 8216;8216;If you say something with skill, even a slap will be acceptable8217;8217;.