At first glance, you are confronted by what seems like a classic image: a stark white cloth flutters on a clothesline, with a stormy blue swirling sky as the backdrop. Then you see that the clothesline is supported by a donkey at either end. Another still life melds the expected — a pedestal with a bottle — with the startlingly mundane, a briefcase and a telephone. Welcome to the proscenium of the absurd.
This exhibition of oils on canvas is 28-year-old Abhijit Paul’s first major solo show and combines the young artist’s major influences — literature, philosophy and theatre. “In Kolkata, where I come from, there is a tradition of painting realistically and your skills have to be very well honed to gain admission to an arts college. So I had developed my skills there. But it was by interacting with my teachers at M.S. University in Vadodara, during my post graduation, that I developed my conceptual understanding as well. And that is how this work has come about,” says Abhijit.
The artist has devoted a lot of thought to the question of what constitutes the absurd. “It’s very difficult to say what is absurd and what is normal,” he says. Pointing towards a landscape with three buffaloes peacefully grazing along a path, he explains, “Buffaloes following a path in a pasture and grazing along it may be normal. But what if the buffaloes were grazing to create a path? That has an element of absurdity.”
The preoccupation with the absurd is reflected in Abhijit’s literary tastes as well, whether it’s Sartre’s No Exit or Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot or this quote by Albert Camus which Abhijit has used to express the philosophy driving his current exhibition: “Man can embrace his own absurd condition. Man’s freedom and the opportunity to give life meaning, lies in the acknowledgement and acceptance of absurdity. If the absurd experience is truly the realisation that the universe is fundamentally devoid of absolutes, then we as individuals are truly free.” Indeed, much of Abhijit’s current exhibition focuses on freedom, especially freedom from what Abhijit calls “the pre-conclusiveness of narratives”.
Whether it’s the fable of the hare and the tortoise or the crow that fills a pot of water with stones to quench its thirst or adages like “men don’t cry” and “ghosts only appear at night”, Abhijit says we are all programmed to accept these narratives unquestioningly. In a cycle of sorts, the narratives that society imparts serve to reinforce the values that society endorses. And not many challenge these narratives.
Abhijit says, “You need courage to challenge these narratives. They are “hard-wired” into you from childhood and we accept them. For instance, I was told as a child, ‘If you don’t eat your food, a ghost will get you’. I still haven’t moved past that narrative and continue to believe in ghosts. But I think artists are, for the most part, able to move beyond these set scripts.”
A fear of ghosts notwithstanding, Abhijit’s work certainly reveals a non-acceptance of a “set” way of looking at things. So is he constantly looking for the absurd in his day-to-day life? “Yes,” he admits. “I don’t always express these thoughts though. Painting allows me to express how I see things.” Apart from the way he “sees” things, his canvases also reveal a heavy theatrical influence. Abhijit uses a background in drama and theatre productions to good use, using an understanding of theatrical lighting to highlight different objects in his canvas, as also give other objects a three dimensional feel. “The way the light is used changes a viewer’s reaction to an object, creates a story out of it, changes its meaning,” he explains.
But the theatre influence goes deeper as well. In fact, Abhijit credits his drama background as helping him overcome pre-conclusive narratives. “A lot of people are reluctant to depict unflattering roles or ones that might make them appear foolish. But once you’ve essayed a comedy part or say, that of a woman — that changes you too,” he says.
Proscenium of the Absurd, which was showing at the Museum Art Gallery at Kala Ghoda in Mumbai till November 14, has one installation piece as well: A trunk containing what could be the ten heads of Raavan, each transformed by a different set of moustaches, including Hitler’s famous toothbrush one. So does the artist decide his medium with the emergence of each new idea? “A solo show definitely gives you more chance to experiment, which was why I decided to have this installation piece. As and when I have an idea, I’m always looking for which platform I can best showcase it on, rather than deciding which medium I’ll use to express the idea. And as an artist, I’m still waiting for my platform. I’m waiting for a proscenium.”