This has been a week of losses. I lost two people for who I have a great deal of respect and affection. One was my former news editor from Indian Express R.N. Varma and the other was my publisher friend Amit Bhatia. Even though almost half-a-century apart, both were visionaries in their own right and really modern in their outlook and approach. I have very fond memories of Varma sahib, as we used to call him, dozing off in his long wooden wicker woven armchair that stood next to his desk and looked like it came out of an old circuit house or a railway waiting room.
We were almost the first generation of women journalists and he was always willing to be considerate and chivalrous when any of us wanted to change our shifts much to the chagrin of our male colleagues! He had the vision to agree to a weekly arts page when I bullied him enough way back in the early 80s. He would often treat us to gulab jamuns and samosas from Fleet Street and would let us have our way even if he sometimes didn’t agree. He had a charming sense of Luchnavi black self-deprecating humour. The lessons we learnt from him have stood us in good stead when dealing with news and life.
Amit Bhatia, on the other hand, was truly a renaissance man who could do anything from publishing books to magazines to corporate communications to theatre and do them well. Gracious and genial, he was kind almost to a fault. He would put all his strength and conviction behind any project that he was into at that moment with complete commitment. I will never forget his enthusiasm when he brought out the first audio novel. His interest and understanding of photography was worth emulating. Devoted to his family, their needs always came first for him.
Two instances I will never forget: Once during a stint in Dubai he had to live sans family and he came up with a quotable quote: “I discovered here in Dubai that clothes have no feet. I thought they automatically got up after a bath, washed themselves and iron themselves and go to live in cupboards! Here, the pajamas I take off remain like that till the next day and the day after until I shift their location!” Another time during a discussion on fidelity, I said that I didn’t know anyone who was not having an affair or not had one at some point after marriage, including yours truly. And Amit declared in all honesty: “Well, you just met one now.” He remained like that for as long as he lived. It is such a pity we lost him to cancer at only 56.
Coming to art, a show that is worth a visit is Hues by Lalit Jain. A retired ASI official, he has been experimenting with colour in an almost playful manner that is endearing for its simplicity and vibrancy. Hues stands for various things…hues of colour, hues of moods, hues of thoughts, hues of inspiration, hues of moments, hues of exploration and expression. As an artist, he has experienced the vast spectrum ranging from passion, anger, inspiration and soul-searching ideas that have found shape on his canvas.
He started his career designing sewing reel labels for a small printing press near Sadar Bazaar in Old Delhi. It was during this phase that he was appointed by the Archeological Survey of India (ASI) on a short-term basis to illustrate pottery and antiquities found on their various excavations. His talent and vision found him a permanent place with ASI and he spent many fruitful years drawing inspirations from his travelogues with them. In his quest of learning he received a diploma in art from the prestigious Sir JJ School of Art, Mumbai in the year 1963. During his stint with ASI, a veritable treasure trove of Indian art, he sought his inspirations from temple sculptures such as the Mathura, Khajuraho and Ajanta murals. He painted many ancient ruins to life during the day and his own creations on canvas by night. Many of these found a pride of place at the National Museum, New Delhi and won him accolades and recognition galore.
I am not sure I like group shows. For one, synergy of the emotional, aesthetic, or intellectual kind is difficult to arrive at. And in the absence of synergy that usually accompanies a carefully curated show, individual artists’ works also tend to get dissipated. Hardly surprising, considering disparate thought processes in the same space has a very visually distracting impact. But sometimes, the lack of synergy is more than compensated by loads of raw energy. This was exactly the case with Romanticists, a group exhibition by Archna Singh, Ankur Rana, Sourabh Mazumdar, Sonia Sareen, Manish Barodia, Amit Bhatia, Sudamini Mishra and Kamar Alam.
Romanticists is a group looking at life with the same chaos within and without, “an alternative to the environment and changing the world with the thought of enlightenment. We attempt to celebrate those who believe in beauty as the highest and best way to live.” The artists have captured their thoughts in camera, metal and on canvas almost like a microcosm. The transition of the world from social media to other life media — the uncontrollable power, unpredictability, and potential for cataclysmic extremes — as an alternative to the ordered world of enlightenment of thought, the changed expression and response of nature finds a place in the works.
While individually most of the works were interesting, as a collective they were too dissimilar and ended up looking like a supermarket. I enjoy design when presenting a show, but being different just for the sake of being different is not my idea of good design aesthetics. The impact of his bronzes was marred by flouncy presentation with black cloth draped aimlessly and limply on the sculpture stands.
The one good thing about the show is the fact that the artists have for once attempted to articulate their thoughts about their works and the concept of the show. It is my contention that there is nobody better qualified to talk about the work than its creator. With better-educated people opting and affording to become artists, I feel this will be a very positive development, and especially in the absence of serious criticism, this may well be a way forward. But these are early times for very mature perspectives to emanate, but it is a beginning and I for one am happy for it.

Alka Raghuvanshi is an art writer, curator and artist and can be contacted on alkaraghuvanshi@yahoo.com