This is a year of celebrations for renowned artist Dhiraj Choudhury, and it all starts right here in Chennai.
“Since 2011 is my 75th birth year, I'm having a series of events around the country, and I'm beginning my journey from Chennai,” says Choudhury with a smile.
The event is the on-going exhibition of his works at Art World, which Choudhury describes as a retrospective of his art in “miniature format”. “Since this is a small gallery, I've given a bit of a flavour of all my works — oils, acrylics, watercolours, sculptures and ceramics,” he says.
It's the perfect time, really, to look back at a remarkable career spanning over 50 years, during which time Choudhury established himself as one of the most respected and socially responsible voices in Indian contemporary art. His works are known for their deep political resonance, tackling gritty issues such as poverty, dislocation and oppression, driven by an anger, he says, that came from what he saw happening in his formative years as an artist.
“I was born in East Bengal, and I saw the political violence erupt as the Pakistani flag was hoisted and the country was divided,” he says. “My family opted to return to India, and we felt like we were refugees, landless; that pain remained for a long time. As an art student, I'd go to crowded places such as railway stations to see where the refugees from East Bengal lived — in the most pathetic conditions, being exploited heartlessly for political ends. This is where I learned my visual language.”
His strong belief that art must have a social conscience is what drew him to teaching, a profession he gave himself to completely for the next 37 years. “After I finished studying in Calcutta in 1960, I joined the College of Art in Delhi, where I remained a teacher until the day I retired in 1996,” he says proudly. “I felt — even at a young age — that it was only through teaching that I could pass on my values and ideology.”
Leading by example
Choudhury's passion for teaching is evident as he talks about his often unconventional methods of motivating students. For instance, he says, he never admonished them to work hard, because he knew they'd never listen. He just painted from morning to evening in his studio attached to the classroom to inspire them by action. “Indirectly, I was telling them that they should work harder than me since they're younger!” he laughs.
And during vacations, he'd take them to some of the most impoverished villages of the country to show them ‘the real India'. “We went to villages where there was such a scarcity of water that you had to clean your utensils with sand. This was a different kind of world to them, but this is India, where people are naked, starving and don't have any shelter,” he says. “Unless you see the reality, what are you going to say through your art? What are you going to communicate to the masses?”
This year, a group of his former students are putting together a book of tribute to him by 75-plus other artists, and Choudhury is deeply touched by the gesture. “It's fantastic, the best reward I could have,” he says. “I fell in love with teaching and my students, and in return, they have inspired me and kept me young. That's why I have more energy than most artists my age!”
The energy Choudhury displays for his work truly is remarkable (“at 75, I'm still working day and night, still experimenting with new mediums”). In the 15 years since his retirement, he's travelled the globe doing a variety of projects — tile art with a group of doctors in the south of France, a festival of art, music and cooking in Germany, a project with scientists in Sweden, and the ‘Sight & Sound' show in London for the millennium, combining music, dance, art and literature.
Working together
“People find great pleasure in doing creative work together, especially when art isn't their profession,” he says. “That is ‘anando' — a break from the rules you live by every day — and that was my message with these projects.”
Choudhury's latest project, across the world and in Kolkata as well, is on love, on the different interpretations and definitions of the emotion. “We live in a hi-tech age when we're busy running around trying to buy comfort, and in the process, we're losing relationships and missing certain emotions in our life,” he says. “I've started a project on the meaning of love, and it's fascinating. One old lady painted a cake, which her husband loved to eat. A little child painted an angel in the sky. Everyone reacts differently to the word.”
‘Anando', pleasure, love — these are words one wouldn't have expected to hear in Choudhury's artistic lexicon 50 years ago. But, as he explains, it is the next natural step in his journey through life: “When we're young, we protest, we fight. But ultimately we all need peace. So now, at 75, I'm ready to fall in love again.”
(The exhibition of Dhiraj Choudhury's works in is on untill August 9.)
