Varanasi [also known as Banaras], the ancient Indian city on the banks of the River Ganges, has been a constant source of inspiration for Manu Parekh.
In his first solo exhibition in Dubai, “Banaras/Varanasi – Mapping the City of Light”, the septuagenarian artist is displaying a series of paintings that beautifully convey the various moods of the city. Parekh’s dramatic, abstract expressionist landscapes depict the luminous skies, the boats in the river, the numerous temples along the banks and the myriad colours of the city. They also capture the spiritual aura of the place, and the sense of tranquillity and stillness that exists amid the chaos of an overcrowded city teeming with pilgrims and tourists.
Parekh spoke to Weekend Review about the various influences on his work, and his eternal romance with Banaras.
Excerpts:
What does Banaras mean to you?
To me Banaras is an organic theatre, bubbling with life and the positive energy of faith. People of all ages come here, and you can see the entire cycle of life on the banks of the river. On one ghat you may see young couples offering flowers at a temple to pray for a happy life ahead; and farther down the river, you will see the same flowers being offered during the last rites of departed souls. Even old people who come to the city are happy to die here. I am attracted by that atmosphere of positivity, belief and blissfulness.
How did the city become the main focus of your work?
I loved the organic nature of the city when I first visited it in 1963. But immediately after that, my job at the Weaver’s Service Centre of the All-India Handloom Board took me to Kolkata, which had that same organic quality. For the next decade, I immersed myself in Kolkata’s vibrant cultural scene. The drama of daily life in the bustling city and my interactions with artists, writers, theatre performers and filmmakers fuelled my art. But in 1975, I was transferred to New Delhi, where I deeply missed the crowds, the grime, and the human drama and struggle of Kolkata. As an artist I felt lost and uninspired, and almost had a nervous breakdown.
Realising that I needed a replacement for Kolkata, I decided to visit Banaras in search of new inspiration. On the last evening of my trip, my hosts took me on a boat ride along the ghats, and I was captivated by the drama of the beautiful evening sky and its reflection in the water, the dark silhouettes of the temples and the flickering lights inside, and the soothing sounds of chanting and the water touching the steps on the banks. That was the beginning of my lifelong romance with the city.
How did the city influence your style?
I was always interested in landscapes and abstraction. But with my Banaras paintings I decided that, as an artist, I must connect myself with something related to my Indian roots. Well-known artist and my good friend Souza used to talk about combining churches from England, goats from Amsterdam and trees from Paris to create his landscapes. I decided to do the opposite and create a particularisation of a place in my work. But I have taken inspiration from various sources to create my impressions of Banaras.
The skies and trees in my paintings are inspired by Rabindranath Tagore’s work; and I have used powerful brushstrokes like Souza’s. I have referenced the work of abstract expressionists, especially de Kooning, to depict the inside of the temples. I focused on the luminosity of the typically Indian colours of the skies, the flowers and the textiles because I wanted to develop a distinctly Indian, yet globally understood language of abstract expressionism. My Banaras paintings are not about a specific place or religion. They are about spirituality and the positive energy of faith.
Your depiction of light is striking. How did you approach this aspect?
Banaras is known as the city of light. I observed that there are two kinds of light there — the amazing colours in the sky during different times and seasons that are created by god, and the man-made light in the temples. I want to capture this interesting rhythm between natural and artificial light.
How has your involvement in theatre as an actor and set designer influenced your work?
I could not have done my Banaras landscapes without the experience of designing sets for theatre, where you have to create dramatic landscapes, a sense of space and an atmosphere through a few images, symbolism and creative use of light. My interest in theatre adds another layer to my work as an artist.
You look for a sea of human activity for inspiration, yet why are there no people in your paintings?
This is again influenced by theatre. My director, Jaswant Thakore, always asked his actors to enter the stage ten seconds after the curtains were raised to let the audience soak up the atmosphere and to create a sense of anticipation. And he waited ten seconds before the curtains were pulled down to let the audience feel the absence of the characters who had been on stage. I want viewers to feel the presence of people in my paintings through their absence. Putting figures in the landscapes will ruin the whole scene because it becomes an unnecessary narrative in a work that is not narrative.
How has your relationship with Banaras evolved in your work?
My earlier paintings were dark and sad. But in recent years they have become very colourful. I feel I have been able to create work that is grounded in the colours and spirituality of India. My next series goes beyond the landscape to explore the idea of faith, which transforms ordinary stones into gods.
Jyoti Kalsi is an arts enthusiast based in Dubai.
“Banaras/Varanasi – Mapping the City of Light” will run at The Fine Art Advisory until November 17. Viewing is by appointment only. For appointments write to tfaa@thefineartadvisory.com