JOIN USDrawing has always been at the core of my practice,” says senior artist Dilip Ranade (born 1950), who has meticulously preserved his sketchbooks right from early 1970s when he was a student of J J School of Art, Mumbai. “Looking at my old drawings and sketches is an education in itself. I contemplate on these little works, and see how they have grown with me.”
Within months of completing his diploma in 1971, Ranade joined the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya (formerly Prince of Wales Museum) and subsequently became its curator. His long association with the museum (which ended in February 2015) not only provided financial stability but also engaged him creatively in many ways.
Notwithstanding the active museum job, Ranade always found time to pursue his personal passion for drawing, painting and sculpting. Over time, his art evolved addressing many themes. In particular, his uncanny ability to breathe life into simple everyday objects and incidents, and lacing them with a corpus of satirical digs and humorous metaphors has won him both critical and popular acclaim.
Ranade’s solo exhibition titled Visual Allegories: Politics of Destabilization (The Guild, Alibaug / March 5 - April 15) features a selection of more than 60 drawings and watercolour paintings created by him in the last four decades. In a freewheeling interaction, the 66-year-old artist shares his views on life, art and an unusual career in museology.
Here are some excerpts:
On his entry into the art world: My father was a man of many interests including arts, music, theatre and literature. He encouraged my passion for visual art, but was worried whether I could make a career of it. Fortunately for me, my drawing teachers convinced him to let me join the art school. He wanted me to do commercial art, but I chose fine arts! At the J J School, I found a wonderful teacher in Sambhaji Kadam.
We also had the benefit of interacting with established practising artists Vasudeo Gaitonde and Akbar Padamsee, whose sessions were not strictly academic but thoroughly engaging. Later, Prabhakar Barwe (1936 - 95) became my close friend, mentor and confidant. For years, it was a routine for me to meet him every Friday evening and discuss my works and art in general. He would appreciate, criticise, cajole and provoke, but always lovingly and in a friendly manner.
On his interest in literature & music: Like my father, I’ve always believed in interconnectedness and inter-disciplinary approach to art and life. I’ve not only been inspired by local and world literature, but also by music, theatre, and even physical science. That’s the reason I consider the 70s and 80s to be the golden period for the arts. It was not just visual art but other forms as well. It was quite common to see poets, theatre persons, musicians, writers and artists mingling with each other. Those interactions caused great excitement, debates, and discussions besides blurring the boundaries between arts.
On Franz Kafka: It’s true that I’m a big fan of Kafka. The way he could make an interesting and sensible story out of a seemingly absurd situation has always fascinated me. I’ve seen it in many of our own traditional forms, and even in Panchatantra stories. In my art too, I’ve tried to follow a similar approach to probe and seek fresh insights about the world around us.
On drawing and sketches: Drawing remains central to my art-making; it has sustained my art-making since my childhood. Even after all these years, when the pen or brush touches the paper, it’s an intense moment for me. I feel a sense of tremendous excitement, suspense, and even fear. Each drawing is different, so it still gives me palpitations when I set out to do a new drawing! My sketchbooks are of immense value because they help me go back in time and also see how my art has evolved through them. I’ve reinterpreted some of my old sketches to make large drawings, paintings and even sculptures.
On his impressions of the art world:The art world has seen many ups and downs. When we were students there was nothing called ‘art market’. Sustaining oneself as an artist was difficult. In my own batch of 40 students, only four of us stuck to practising visual art and are still continuing to do so.
Anyway, things did change over time; we even witnessed an ‘art boom’ when a lot of money began floating around. The biggest benefit was that we could all get world-class material to work with. On the flip side, many artists became machines, and lost their way as creative people. Now it has all sobered down and only few committed artists continue to practise their art. I feel it’s a good time for every artist to sit back, introspect and seriously contemplate on art and life.
On a personal level, the job at the museum gave me independence; and there was no pressure to produce only ‘salable’ works.
On visual art and museology: My museology practice and art-making have fed each other. Although I was known for my draughtsmanship even in college, it was in the museum that I could sharpen my skills further and cultivate the habit of being extremely precise in rendering figures. For instance, while doing a diorama of birds, I had to be very specific at what angle a swan bent its neck, or how exactly a flamingo raised its legs.
There was absolutely no margin for error. Also, while working as a taxidermist in the natural history section of the museum, I could understand the physical structure and behavioural traits of many animals — be it a tiny rabbit, a slimy snake or a mighty rhinoceros. Although exhausting, I really enjoyed being part of the animal kingdom. No wonder, many animals and birds continue to sneak into my paintings and drawings to this day!