May 12, 2013

Luck by Chance

Today was all about luck for this not yet three-year old girl.

Wait. Let me start at the beginning. I spent a wonderful Sunday with my family, catching up with old friends in Sarjapur. We talked of many things including how safe/unsafe it was for a girl/woman in India. Just the notion of ‘choice’ for a girl growing up in India vs. in the USA.

At the end of a long day we all went to Corner House, an ice cream place in Koramangla in Bangalore. We finished at about 9:30 pm and we were ready to get back home. We notice a girl child. Small, well dressed and carrying a cloth bag. She was making her way into the middle of this very crowded street with cars and bikes zipping past. My husband tells this man standing close to her ‘ please be careful with your child’. And this dazed looking man replies ‘ she isn’t mine’.

Suddenly there is panic. And we realize the child is alone, lost and crying very loudly. By now there were a whole lot of people gathered around to figure out what to do with this child. People fanning out in different directions, walking into shops, walking into lanes close by… anything to see if there was an equally panic-stricken mother/father/relative nearby looking for this child. There wasn’t. Not one we could find anyway. I got her a toffee to calm her down. It didn’t. My friend picks her up and starts to rock her. We called the cops. And are wondering what to do next.

Then this child points in one direction and starts wailing again. My friend suggests we set her down again and let her walk. She starts walking towards a far away lane while still holding one of the bystanders hand. By this time the beat cops on a bike have heard the commotion and come to help out. A few of us walk along with the little girl while briefing the cops. About 500 yards down the girl turns into a by-lane. Three house down that lane, well away from the busy street and traffic, is her home. Her mother is standing outside chatting with a lady completely oblivious to the drama that just unfolded a scant 500 yards away with her daughter. The child runs to her mum and stops crying. The mother had not even realized the little girl had walked out of the house. And amazingly this little, not yet three years old girl found her way home!

So all’s well that ends well. Yes. But things could have gone horribly wrong.

It got me thinking
While walking around asking people if they knew of someone looking for a missing girl child, my thought was – what if she has been abandoned? Why did I think that? Mainly because if she were lost, then in the 20 mins that had passed since we found her, there would have/should have been someone looking for her. She was well dressed and not a street child. She was just barely three!!

The next thing that came to my mind was – Now what? I don’t know what to do. We can’t leave this child with the cops. Certainly not at an all male cop station. Do I call up a women’s cell, an orphanage, a hospital? What is the procedure in a situation like this? And if she were indeed abandoned, then was I going to be consigning her to a life in an orphanage away from any family life till she got adopted, if she ever did. Was it my moral responsibility to take her home?
And would it be right? Would I allow some other stranger to take her home. Would she be safe? But then I am sure, others too would have questioned if she would be safe with me.

Things could have gone horribly wrong even with us well-meaning well-intentioned folks. What if we had taken the child to a cop station/ hospital/women’s cell/orphanage. She would have become a part of the system. What if the mother did not realize for an hour that her child had walked out the gate. By which time all of us who knew anything would have left the area. Restaurants would have closed. Then what? What if this child slipped between the cracks and lost her way forever. We meant well. But…

Though there is something that I did see/ learn and am so very proud of.

A whole bunch of us stopped. We did not run away from the responsibility. There were the four of us – our friends and us – with kids. Everyone else who stopped were young, did not appear to be married and did not have children with them. The first couple who stopped, continued to stay on the scene even when we – apparently older looking/ with kids responsible adults – came on the scene. They did not leave. They were probably in their early twenties. There was a group of four girls of a similar age, who stopped and tried to calm the little girl. Some young guys stopped and stayed. Everyone tried to figure out what language the child would understand. Diverse people tried to reach helplines. The man from the sweetshop did not take money when he realized why I wanted the sweet.The cops from the police station were on the scene within ten minutes of our call. The beat cops had already got there within five.

Today this girl child found her way back home. Maybe it was luck by chance. Or maybe because no matter what you say for my country – Good people still exist. I saw it first hand today. It got me thinking about my discussion earlier in the day with my friends about the girl child. We have a long way to go. But if today’s youth can stop to help and not be daunted by the thought of responsibility, not run away after passing the buck, there is hope. I don’t mean to simplify the situation or trivialize what has gone on in the past and still continues to do so. I just want to believe.

There is always hope.

AbA_boyWithKites_forblog
May 11, 2013

Manja

AbA_boyWithKites_forblog

Boy with kites. (12″x12″, Acrylic on canvas)

I did this painting some years ago. It is incomplete – still a work in progress. And yet it has graced the wall in my living room for a while now. I don’t even remember who sent me the reference image and in what context. My computer crashed about a year ago and I lost most of the data. The reference image is missing. I find I don’t really want to do any more work on it. It speaks for where I come from, where I am and where I am going.

So why am I sharing this with you now? It is because of one line from a song in a recent Hindi movie- Kai Po Che. The song is called – Manja.
And the specific lyrics from the song that I refer to are – ” Suljha lenge uljhe rishton ka manjha
(Do turn up the volume on your device. the song is playing :-) . The lyrics with an English translation are given at the end of this post).

Manja is the kite string that is tightly wrapped around spools. It is usually coated with a colorful mixture that contains glass dust. Why? So that in kite flying battles, you can use your glass sharded string to cut the neighbors kite strings.
Sadly, it destroys the hands of the person who applies this mixture/paste. Their hands hurt all the time and are covered in a gazillion cuts.
It is hard, monotonous and bloody work. Hours of spinning in circles around two wooden poles  rolling and stringing endless rolls of pliable virgin yarn into brightly coloured skeins rendered razor sharp with a mixture of wax, powdered glass, mud and pigment. The mixture slices the hands of its handlers- usually a bunch of young adolescents led by an older string maker. >>

The Indian Kite Festival which takes place on Sankranti is held on January 14th every year. It heralds the onset of the harvesting season and is one of fun and splendor. As an artist who loves colour, it is a sight to behold. One can see a multitude of colorful kites take flight. What you see is a vast network of kite strings that criss-cross the sky.  Again, it’s fun for us but I would hate to be a bird in the sky when those kites are in air.

So much in life that is not black and white.

Suljha lenge uljhe rishton ka manjha

Every time I hear these lines I get goose bumps. It makes me think of the tangled relationships I have in my life.  The song takes me back to my roots in Patiala. The kite shop next to my naniji’s  sister Satwant Masiji’s house. It does not exist anymore. It’s been torn down to make way for condominiums. As a child I remember spending hours seeing the kites being made. This old man used to make them while we all sat and watched in rapt attention. The balance/ shape/ weight had to be just right otherwise the kite would not take flight. And of course as the youngest in the family and a girl to boot- it was my job to hold the kite and release it when my brother said “now” :-)

This painting is not for sale – and will stay in my studio as a ‘practice session’. I also want to leave you with some images from my friend Chandan Dubey’s work around the kite makers.

Lyrics of this song with English translation :

Roothe khwabon ko mana lenge
We’ll pacify the angry dreams,
Kati patangon ko thaamenge
we’ll hold the cut kites,
Ha ha hai jazba
yeah, we have a passion..
Ho ho hai jazba
yeah, we have a passion..
Suljha lenge uljhe rishton ka manjha
We’ll untangle the string of relations..
Hm, ka manjha, hm, ka maanjha..
strings.. the strings..

Soyi takdeerein jaga denge
We’ll wake the sleeping fates,
Kal ko ambar jhuka denge
we’ll make the sky bow tomorrow..
Ha ha, hai jazba
yeah, we have the passion..
Ho ho, hai jazba
yeah, we have the passion..
Suljha lenge uljhe rishton ka manjha
We’ll untangle the string of relations..
Hmm maanjha..
the string..

Ho ho barfeeli aankhon mein
Oh, in icy eyes,
Pighla sa dekhenge hum kal ka chehra
we’ll see the face of tomorrow, melted..
Ho ho pathreele seene mein
In the rock hard chest,
Ubla sa dekhenge hum laava gehra
We’ll see deep boiling lava..
Agan lagi, Lagan lagi
There’s a fire within us, a devotion..
Toote na, toote na jazba ye toote na
Shouldn’t break, this passion within us shouldn’t break..
Magan lagi, Lagan lagi
There is a delight, a devotion..
Kal hoga kya, keh do
what will happen tomorrow, say
Kis ko hai parwaah
who cares about it..
Parwaah… parwah…
who cares.. who cares..

 

elvis
Apr 30, 2013

Meet Elvis

This is a portrait of Elvis – a rescued Boxer. It is approx. 12×16 inches and is done with Acrylics on canvas.

elvis

This is his story -
Elvis is now about two years old. Before he was rescued, I am told he was tied up in a bathroom by his previous family for most of the time. Maybe they didn’t know how to handle the high-energy that boxers are known to come with. He was rescued by YODAYouth Organization for the Defense of Animals in Mumbai.
When found he was severely underweight. His pelvis was very very weak. Apparently that’s how they named him Elvis! One could count the ribs on his body, he didn’t have the muscle mass that boxers are known to have.

elvis_eyeDetail

Today he lives with Ajay in Pune. Ajay was in Bangalore, when he saw Elvis’s picture for the first time. It was love at first sight. Ajay wanted/needed to meet Elvis immediately. The next morning Ajay took the first flight out to Mumbai to meet him. At the the kennel where he was being boarded it was the same story. Love at first sight for Elvis too because he climbed into Ajay’s taxi and refused to get out. Ajay was in the midst of setting up home in Pune (he was in transition from Bangalore to Pune) and asked YODA to keep Elvis for the two weeks it took him to set up home in Pune.

elvis_tongueDetail

Elvis has an unnaturally long tongue that hangs out of his mouth at all times. Ajay loves it. So ofcourse Elvis had to be painted with his tongue all hanging out!!
Elvis is home now, happy as can be. I am told he loves his 4 km walk every morning. He steps off the pavement and relieves himself only in the gutter. He has been joined by his brother Oscar this week. Oscar is a two year old Beagle rescued from a drug testing facility in Bangalore. Last heard, they were romping around their new house enjoying the freedom and love that they both deserve.

Thank you Ajay. My best to ‘Elvis the pelvis’ and ‘Oscar’.

Please note- This portrait of Elvis is for sale. First right of refusal rests with his human dad. All proceeds barring one rupee go to the dogs as part of ‘The Poonchh Collection’.

 

Apr 29, 2013

Re-affirmations

Yesterday was a warm Sunday spent with family. The day started beautifully. I went for a walk in the morning. Watched the sky, dreamt a little, thought about life and towards the end of that walk, touched/connected with a part of me.

I am back with my kids after a 5 day overseas business trip with my husband. The kids are thrilled to have us back and I am thrilled to be back.

IMG_5019

23rd of April was my birthday. I did not celebrate it for a myriad of reasons. One of which was the sudden and unexpected demise of my dear friend M’s sister. I had baked a rich chocolate cake to celebrate my Nana - maternal grandfather’s life, the week he passed away. Strangely enough, the kids felt it was time that I got a birthday cake. Not realizing the significance in it for more than the obvious. So yesterday was about celebrating my birthday with my family. It was also about reaffirming and celebrating our lives today and of those who have passed on. It’s to say thank you for having enriched our lives. The cake was also for M & M.

It was about spending quality time with people who make up my life. And telling the people I care about and love, that I do love them. So in the spirit of that quality time, yesterday was also about an art project for the kids. My niece broke her wrist the other day. It has to be in a cast for the next four weeks. Her request- “Aatya (aunt), please paint on my cast”

I drew the pattern and the four kids (two of mine + my niece + my daughter’s friend) got to add colour and detail. By the end all the kids wanted their hand in a cast!!

 

 

Apr 10, 2013

Back to my roots 2

Connections.
That is what life is about. How we connect and embrace the people in our lives…

On 24th Sep 2012 I lost my paternal grandmother (Aaji) to a heart attack. It was sudden and unexpected. And heart breaking to say the least. I went home to Indore for her last rites and found my life changed. I wrote about that earlier.

This post is the next in the series about honoring my ancestors and re- discovering my roots. I wrote about my mothers side before. This time it’s my fathers side that I want to talk about.

But first a little anecdote: My Aaji always made waran/ arhar-toor dal (lentils) at home with rice. This was made at every major meal regardless of what else was on the menu. And she made it a little sweet with jaggery (cane sugar) and thin enough that you could drink it like soup. And that is what I always did. Extra was made when I was in town because I would drink it through the day instead of tea. On this trip when I went home for her last rites, it was made again by my Kaku (aunt), Sunanda Bhagwat Phadke. That cup of dal was a million childhood memories in every sip…

Please click the thumbnails to see a larger view.


The first image is of that last cup of dal I had on 25th September 2012.

waran


This next image is of the chair that has always been there in my grandparents house and in just this place. First it was where my grandfather sat – through the day. And when he passed on, it became the place where my grandmother sat. It sits empty today. Many use it as a transit seat when someone comes to visit but I don’t think it will ever be filled again.

The-Chair-1   The-Chair


My fathers family hails from Ratnagiri in Konkan, though the family moved out of Konkan almost two hundred years ago. I now have extended family in Pune, Nagpur, Ujjain, Gwalior, Mumbai and Indore. My grandfather’s (Aazoba) family came first to Harda in Madhya Pradesh and then to Indore when the Peshwas moved up north.

My grandfather Vishvanath Vinayak Phadke, was one of two siblings and my grandmother Vimla Karmarkar Phadke, one of seven.


This next set of pictures is of my grandfather Vishvanath Vinayak Phadke as a young man and then of him a few years before he died.

scan001   scan002


This next picture is priceless and is of my grandmother Vimla Karmarkar Phadke, with a her great grand-daughter and my daughter Meera. A great grandmother is called panji. And my aaji used to say “kismat say milta hai ki koi tumhe panji keh kar bulaye” (It is only divine good fortune that one be called panji in their lifetime).
And the next one is of my grandmother as a young girl. She is seated in the center.

Aaji+meera  scan011


The next image is of my grandmother and my grandfather’s sister Kashi Phadke Panse .

scan008

Aajoba’s father Vinayak Phadke, was with the Excise and Customs Department of the Holkar State and worked in the opium growing area of Neemach in Madhya Pradesh . He later joined the State Printing Press. He was a health freak and was a wrestler. He jumped into a swirling river in spate from a bridge some 40 feet above on a bet!! They say he was a very fit man and even at 70, could do full kastrat (exercise) with body builders wooden mallets. Each of these weighed at least 15 kg and came up to  his thighs :-)
Music has always been an important part of our family. And it certainly was a big part of his life- he could play the harmonium and took part in theater. He introduced his grandson-my father, to Indian classical music when dad was barely five. So no points for guessing why my name is Aarohi. Oh! on occasions he also allowed my father to taste bhaang thandai (cannabis). All this before dad was ten!!

And Aazoba my grandfather, was the exact opposite. He wanted to study History and English literature. So genes do play a big part in who one is. I did my Masters in History! Aazoba hated that he had to join the Post and Telegraph Department  during the 2nd World War. His heart was not in it. He wanted to travel and explore the world. He proudly told my father that he burnt his imported fur cap during the Swadeshi Movement when he was still in school. He was a small man in height but a giant in stature. A socialist at heart and hated ostentation. He believed in total equality.  So when Abbas Khan, the postmen came home, although he was given tea in a glass reserved for him, he sat in the same chair on the same level as the rest. After all Aazoba  was the head of a high class Brahmin family!! But one that had no time for orthodoxy and rituals. Quiet, unassuming but with these glorious blue eyes. His eyes twinkled every time he smiled. Even at 79 when he smiled he looked like a naughty kid who was up to mischief!! But he brought up his family without ever raising his hand on any of the kids and hardly ever lost his temper. He wanted us to be humble and hated arrogance of any kind. He retired as a senior postmaster. He was addressed as Bhau (brother) by everyone. Including his kids and grandkids!! He died on 16th June 1998 at the age of 79.  Having seen successful children and grandchildren, he left us before he could see his great- grandchildren. Today he has seven.


The first image taken in 1963, has my grandmother seated in the white sari and that is my father standing in the center. On the left is Dr. Deo. my grandmothers elder brother-in-law. And on the right is Asha Keskar Deo, his daughter-in-law.
The next image taken in 1966 is of one of the aircraft my father flew – Vampire Mk-52.

scan012  scan004

My grandmother, Aaji was of a different mold. According to some, she could have become a CEO or a barrister had she studied beyond school. That is how enterprising she was. She came from a very rich family of Malguzars (tax collectors) in the British Raj. She grew up riding horses! She was tall, both in height and stature. Infact her height helped her get to the ‘high jumpers‘ team in school. She had love ooze out of every pore and absolutely delighted in feeding people. If anyone called and told her that – ‘my son or daughter, niece, nephew, a friends child or even distant neighbors child is coming to Indore- could you please look after them?’ Aaji would not only feed them at every opportunity but often they actually ended up staying in her house!! I grew up calling all these people tai, dada, maushi or kaka (elder sister, elder brother, aunty or uncle) At her funeral there were so many people that I did not know who I was related to by blood and who, with just affection, love and good will. But I am blessed for having been born into this family.


The first image taken in 1954, is of my Aaji (in the center in a dark sari) as a young lady holding her second born – my aatya (Aunt), Bhanumati Phadke Hardas.  On the right is my Aazoba holding their third child, Prakash Phadke. And hanging on to his coat tails is my father, Air Cmde Ramesh Vishwanath Phadke, (retd). The picture is taken at Amer Palace in Jaipur, India
This next image has Aaji seated in the middle on the floor with my father. And standing behind her is my grand aunt Kashi. This image was taken in 1946, the year my dad was born.

scan013  scan006

Aajis father Dinkar Raghunath Karmarakar, was the Malguzar of some 15 villages north of Damoh in Sagar district of Bundelkhand, now Madhya Pradesh. His ancestors had also come there with the Peshwas. My great- grand father actually had judicial and administrative powers. He collected taxes and as part of his salary was allowed to keep a small part. He held court. Literally :-)

This was a hereditary title, as a result it passed on to her eldest brother when my great- grandfather passed away prematurely at the age of 48. Once that happened, the brother wanted to finish his responsibilities as fast and as best he could. Aaji came to Ujjain to study in 1938-39. When she was about 12. And just about 5-6 years later was married to my grand father. She used to tell me stories about how great the leap was for her. She went from riding horses to a stage where once she stood in line with four children outside a community toilet, waiting her turn while her child had diarrhea.  But life improved and the four children flourished. My fondest memories are of my grand mother telling me stories-especially the one about the eight thugs. The amazing part was that the story changed every time she told it. I don’t think even Aaji knew the original anymore :-)

This time when I went home, I met everyone I could and took pictures. And rummaged through old trunks to get my hands on family treasures and memories in the shape of some old photographs.


And look what I found rummaging through those trunks… my grandfather Vishwanath Phadke’s janampatri (horoscope)!

azoba_janampatri1  azoba_janampatri2  azoba_janampatri3

Apr 9, 2013

Sahana

It’s been a while since I posted any art work. A lot has been happening in life and it’s been keeping me very busy. I have been working on a series of large canvases for a show to happen later this year. Since it is to be a show, I can’t really reveal anything much of what I am working on. Though those of you that follow my Facebook page would have seen little bits and pieces here and there :-)

It is also that time of year where the kids have summer vacations. Add to that play dates 2x (I have two kids) which means there is only so much I can get done in a given day. So I have taken a small break from the large canvases and am doing small format pieces. It keeps my fingers working and let’s me practice everyday.

sahana

This portrait is of Sahana. It is approx 8×10 inches and is done with Acrylics on canvas. Sahana is my friend Saarus Nirhali’s daughter. A stray that is ridiculously affectionate and totally delightful to spend time with. Saarus is a stained glass artist who does Tiffany Lamp shades- yes! the real deal!! Her work retails under the brand name – Glasshopper. Do go see her work here.

UPDATE-
Please note
- This portrait of Sahana was for sale. It was bought by her parents – Saarus and Mayuresh. All proceeds barring one rupee go to the dogs as part of ‘The Poonchh Collection’.

 

 

featured-image
Mar 22, 2013

Video Demo- Gold/Brown Eyes

I get a truck load of mail on whether I take art classes/ teach art. Sadly, I don’t.

I think I lack the patience to teach painting. About eight years ago I did teach history for a year in an International School here in Bangalore – grades 6-9. It was one of the most fulfilling jobs I have ever had :-)
That is a whole different story though. One I will share on another occasion. Maybe.

This one is about my most enduring passion – I have been wanting to do this kind of a video demonstration for a while now, but somehow just never got around to it. I hope to make this, one in a series of demonstration videos. That is if I get enough time…..

In this video the eyes are about 80% done. The rest will get finished once the entire canvas is closer to completion. That would be the correct time for me to judge the depth/ intensity of the ‘highlights‘ and the ‘darks‘. And the entire eye will look more ‘liquid‘ once the light source is fixed and reflected light is added.
This demonstration is done using Acrylics on canvas.

 

Would you all like me to?

Mar 20, 2013

What is Art?

Sometime in the beginning of last year I got a mail asking me to answer some questions for an article a writer was doing on ‘Art‘. There was a long list of questions and I answered them as best I could. I then promptly forgot about the piece.

In the last few days, I found myself looking for that set of answers to see if anything had changed in my way of thinking in one year – from the first time I wrote about this topic and now.

It hasn’t!!

I wanted to share the piece with you all.  But please note- This is too complex a topic to be answered frivolously :-) And would require reams of paper or at the very least lots of cups of chai/whiskey to talk/argue about long into the night!! And is controversial in the many viewpoints that would define this topic. So I want to clarify that these are my views and how I see the topic. I have tried to be as upfront and honest as I can.

“What can be termed as art?”

If I speak generically and not technically, then anything that pleases the eye is art. It has an aesthetic that appeals to someone. But technically, I would think that art in any form requires a certain skill in that particular category, needs to be one of a kind or at least limited edition, and last but not the least needs to resonate with an inner emotion that almost compelled the artist to create it.

“What are the criteria based on which a layperson can gauge what’s art and what’s not?”

Art is different from a product that it need not have any tangible use other than to hang on a wall, be displayed somewhere just to give a sense of ‘something’ to the beholder. It must touch a chord. It need not have any great philosophical advice, but must touch an emotion for the person seeing and interacting with that piece. Functional art, is something that combines an aesthetic with a deeper meaning. It is different from a very good looking product. However, sometimes the aesthetic of a product, it’s product design is so compelling that, that fact alone, elevates it to a piece of art – where form and function combine with the creators skill and knowledge to create an almost one of a kind product, that is so good that it may never be rivaled again. Though in some cases, this ‘product design’ may then be mass produced!

“What one might consider art, another might consider to be ordinary or in some cases even trash. Please comment.”

Absolutely! this is where it gets tricky. If you look at the technical definition that I put forth earlier…art should qualify in the criteria mentioned.  Here I would like to put forth a bit of a tangential view… an amateur trying to paint or sculpt etc is still an artist trying to create something of profound value. It may not have reached a high enough level of refinement…but it’s potential is clearly visible to a layman. Contrast that with someone with no skill, no vision and nothing much to say, painting just because they have access to the tools and materials!!

Another point of interest lies in understanding what an artist may be trying to communicate.  Sometimes just plain splashes of paint on an otherwise blank canvas, are so compelling in the composition they make, or in the colours they juxtapose, that they become art. Other times it may just be the sheer intensity of what the artist was going through, and wished to communicate, that the piece takes on more meaning than just the obvious first glance visual appeal.

“Art is subjective, yes. However, there are lesser acknowledged art forms—printmaking, pottery, music, digital works, dance, etc—that the layman might not consider as art as a result of non-exposure. How do you bridge this gap of knowledge?”

By more education and awareness. And I personally feel that all of these art forms are still just the tools/mediums to express oneself. It is when one uses these effectively to communicate that one compelling idea or emotion of a given moment, that connects with it’s audience….that is when these become art. Otherwise doing random moves on a dance floor is as ‘un-arty’ as just throwing paint on a canvas because you can!!

“Today, people are no longer intimidated by the traditional meanings of art. They’ve become experiential and willing to give various art mediums a short. Please comment on this surge in interest in various forms.”

It’s not today…pop art rose out of just such a situation but it had a compelling enough thought behind it.  In fact Impressionism, Pointillism, Cubism, Abstract Art, etc were all experimental and a break from tradition when they first started. A thought that spoke of the times as it were. Today people are experimenting and trying out new things. This in itself is great. But does everything that this new lot create, become art? No.

Today there is a merging of art, craft, boredom, one-upmanship, Facebook and it’s ‘likes’.

Today it is possible to have your ‘work’ displayed to hundreds of people over the internet. Many say they like it because they are your ‘friends’ and not because you created a great piece of work. Due to this, often ‘questionable art’ becomes ‘good or excellent art’ because of the number of people who ‘liked’ it. The result is that mediocrity rules.  The silver lining here though is that those that are artists, will either learn, emerge, and come up with a new aesthetic – that is compelling enough or die trying :-) . Artists and artisans of amazing skill will come forth. The others will pass on by as a fad.

“Does exclusivity play a big part in rendering a piece as an artwork?”

I think so. One of a kind or limited edition. Else that absolutely divine piece of product design that I mentioned earlier :-)

 “According to you, can lesser-known art forms (like the ones mentioned above) become a part of one’s home decor? And how?”

Absolutely. Sometimes prints are more affordable, or pottery is so appealing that even if it is mass produced in a kiln, it touches the beholder with it’s aesthetic.

“Culturally, many indigenous works—abroad and in India—that represent a society or convey a strong story, are considered artistic representations. According to you, can these pieces be termed as artworks?”

Yes.

“More and more homeowners are picking up quirky buys—carpets, brassware, masks, etc—from their travels. How would you recommend a homeowner spot the diamond from the rough and pick out an authentic piece?”

Anything you have in your home must speak to you. It must either fulfill a function or be so wonderful to look at, feel, or touch that it brings joy to the homeowner. Authenticity lies in that honest reaction.

“And lastly, can there ever be bad art?”
I don’t think there can be bad art….if it is bad…it is not art.

goodHomes_mar2013_featured
Mar 20, 2013

Good Homes – March 2013

goodHomes_mar2013_coverI think the team at ‘Good Homes‘ like their birthday gift from last year. They are still playing with it – one year after the event!!

Now if I could just figure out the secret to the continued interest. Would save me a fortune in birthday gifts for my two kids!! Given that they too would be interested and still playing with them for longer than a week after the event :-)

So here it is, the Theyyam painting displayed to perfection in two different settings. Thank you Ronita Itaalia-Dhanu and Aloysius D’Souza for a great spread.


goodHomes_mar2013_1   goodHomes_mar2013_2

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...