AP: I am not a portrait painter. That was perhaps the only time that I painted a head, which denotes a specific individual. I have seen many portraits of Gandhiji in the course of the exercise. However the message of the photograph is direct, non-coded, literal. In my drawing, besides the denotational character there is also a coded, iconic message. I use aesthetic anchors to exemplify this message. I let the image discover itself; at times in the linear maze, a form appears which I define, understanding later, the psychic resonance. In one of my charcoal oils, I transcribed my reading of Gandhi's male / female self into a compounded identity. I have stylized the eye, by elongating it, giving it the appearance of a woman's eye, feminizing the Gandhi face in the process. In the watercolours as the layers dry, there is coagulation and the edges form boundaries of their own volition. This is in the very nature of the medium. In one of the works, I was amazed to find in the center of the Gandhi forehead, a series of drop-like formations, resembling the seven charkas.
The process of form and formation is one of appearance and definition. There are three time-levels operating simultaneously - the Now, as the brush stretches across, articulating the space, the prospective expectancy of a Future form, waiting to emerge, and the drama of the In-between. The emotive charge of the image emerges from this in-between space. The power of desire (iccha shakti) and the power of action (kriya shakti) are inexorably bound together, in this process of image making. These images belong to the broad theme of heads. However, here I have used four indexes that point towards Gandhi - the spectacles, the protruding ears, the majestic bald head and the wrinkled lower jaw, often smiling. I am very moved by Gandhi's choice of symbols. I believe he used symbolic language like an artist. He had the gift of setting the imagination of the people aflame. He chose potent metaphors to mobilize the masses. The silent revolution of the charkha became, in his hands, a symbol for the revolution of the people.
JB: Can you talk a bit about your creative process - how you start to work and how it takes shape, and how it has changed?
AP: I never begin with the image- it is the last thing that appears. I ask myself the questions - "from which point of the paper shall I begin? Where should my brush touch first? Where does my line begin?" These questions are resolved aesthetically. I work directly on paper with a brush.
A work is never complete unless it is seen- the artist and the spectator are the two halves, each being incomplete without the other. How my work has changed is for the spectator to answer. I have changed in my way of working, but the spectator sees only the outward aspect of it. The theme remains the same.
JB: How do you view the present scenario in Indian art? There seem to be two distinct kinds of work - the popular and therefore, the 'commercial' and the more serious kind of work.
AP: It depends on whether you are trying to please people, like entertainment, or not, whether you are interested in the outside or the inside. I have a feeling that people who buy art, are buying for others - those who come to their houses to see, rather than for themselves. They go by ear, rather than by seeing the work. They will buy the work of an artist they have heard of.
JB: Do you think support systems for young Indian artists are sufficient and beneficial to them?
AP: There are organizations that give small scholarships to young artists, but support systems can be a handicap. If it is a private support system, it has to be pleased. The artist then has to produce goods for getting a scholarship. They have to do what the sponsors like to see.
