From where Edward Burtynsky stands

“What do you ‘expect’ from a certain artistic expression?” This question may sound weird, at least it sounded to me when I was a student and (over)confident in my tastes. It was a time when any rendering which elicited a full blown explanation of its concept was best received. For example, a play with the depiction of the cutthroat realities of life, a fiction with a definite explanation at the end or a painting with painstakingly achieved photo realism. Fortunately a realization of my narrow perceptions came to me pretty quick, and I refreshed my entire outlook towards art. Now I started expecting more than realism or something beyond realism from any art form. And photography? Where previously I considered it to be only an ‘aid’ painters used to achieve photo realism, now as photo realism in paintings lost its sheen, I reevaluated my views about this form of art. From strident reflections of social concerns to silent spectators of unseen worlds, pictures are certainly playing a vital role in my overall understanding of imagery in the process of creating art.


I like Ansel Adams’ quote which says “A good photograph is knowing where to stand”. Accomplished Canadian photographer Edward Burtynsky not only knows where to stand but also knows when to stand :)


Marble stone quarries, mines, railroads that cross obscure terrains or mass production factories in China, autobahns, heaps of used tires, ship breaking yards of Bangladesh – Burtynsky goes to these worlds that are sometimes unknown, unseen or even inconvenient to project. His pictures which sometimes appear quiet, at other times appear like frontline protestors. His photographs are like non objective compositions which take you along on a mind boggling voyage of the two dimensions. 

It is not that I do not approve of photo realistic painters, but when I see photography like that of Edward Burtynsky’s, I wonder what it is that painters are trying to achieve by recreating in paint, that which photographers have already captured with great spontaneity and poignancy.

My Sincere thanks to Edward Burtynsky and Marcus Schubert from the office of Edward Burtynsky for permissions.

Edward Burtynsky official website 

Tyeb Mehta: The legend of modern Indian art

For those who are not familiar with his name, Tyeb Mehta (b.25 July 1925 - d.2 July 2009) was one of the greatest Indian painters from post Independence era (post 1947), highly celebrated and recognized worldwide for his figurative paintings. He was associated with the renowned Progressive Artists’ Group of India. His paintings are known for their trademark luminous colors, powerful subject matter and expressive brushwork.

In India, sadly, we do not have many art museums dedicated to modern art with permanent exhibits. We have public galleries where if you are lucky you get to see some fantastic shows once in a while. I remember one such exhibition from around 12 years back which was showing works by really big names from the world of modern art in India. The names were familiar to me having studied about these artists in my art school curriculum. 
So there I was, walking very quietly, almost religiously, moving from one painting to another, very conscious of the big names behind the paintings, feeling respectful at a distance. But when I came to a painting by Tyeb Mehta, I felt compelled to go closer and preen at the exotic work before me, mesmerized by the vivid and stark colors that he had used. His paintings were completely different from what I had perceived them to be, based on their prints. Thereafter I rarely missed an opportunity to see his work. ( The opportunities were very rare though :-( ) 

Tyeb Mehta’s paintings have a mystic paradox of subject and application. While subjects strongly echo human suffering, trauma, violence and agony, the painting style is highly composed and structured. He would have easily taken the ‘gestural’ path and it would have been logical at that time. But it looks like he had sort of compartmentalized the subject matter from the style and a strong artistic assurance of discoveries shows through in his work. He was a quiet observer who loved solitude and loved reading. Not surprisingly, he formed his own powerful visual language which had its roots from Hindu mythology to modern historical events like partition of India and Pakistan. Pain and violence was observed, understood and finally rearranged in his own way. So, for example when a composition is based on some mythological story, it’s not laden with the usual pomp and ornaments, and when it is based on a bloody incident on the street, it does not display the cluttered realities of life. Everything floats between Tyeb’s artistic pursuits and the viewer.

Tyeb’s color palette is full of astonishing bright colors, as if picked from flocking colorful market streets. Neither do they replicate any pre-established, well received set of colors, nor do they intentionally project an ‘Indian-ness’. They appear to be an outcome of his personal artistic quests. He painted large solid plains with pure hues of oil paints most of the time. The colors in his paintings engulf the viewer in their span, almost hypnotizing, and when the viewer gradually floats out of these hues, he finds himself facing the brutal subject that the painting is talking about. It is like seeing the painting inside out! It is one indescribable experience and I will strongly recommend you to view Tyeb Mehta’s work when you get a chance.

Weekly market of Bagh: Colors of rural India

It’s been a long time that I have wanted to post this video that we captured while driving through the weekly market in the village called Bagh, in Madhya Pradesh state of India. It is a tribal belt in central India located some 600 km from Pune. My wife Nivi and I were passing through this village to see the 4th century Buddhist caves located nearby which have some stunning fresco paintings from Buddhist tales. Quite unexpectedly we landed in this colorful market and were able to see these wonderful people in their weekly shopping mood!


You can see some screen-grabs below and a small one minute video clip which gives an idea of what it was like to be in the middle of a rural Indian weekly market. People wore clothes in combinations of various pinks, reds, greens, shades of white and yellow ochres. These colors, organically evolved, uninterrupted and persistent for centuries, are very symbolic of the preference of people in rural India. Perhaps that’s the reason why these bright colors appear so true and original to eyes. Enjoy!

Mary Livoni’s charcoal drawings: A silent game of light and dark

I have seen many versions of the legendary playwright Samuel Beckett’s play ‘Waiting for Godot’, in which two hopeful needy men are waiting endlessly for some unknown, unseen, superman like Mr. Godot to change their fate. The reason here to remember ‘Godot’ is, in the context of art very often I see that many artists keep waiting (which reflects in the tentativeness of their creations) for miracles in their art. They miss simple things or ignore daily life existence in the quest for ‘something beyond’. And here when I see artists like Mary Livoni, I feel amazed to see the artistic confidence they carry in their art works. The notion of ‘completion’ never gets hampered by the simplicity of the subject matter or the medium of paint. They do not wait for miracles, but they create something which is more genuine than a miracle.

Living in Chicago, Mary Livoni’s suburban architectural charcoal drawings prominently capture various views of old iron bridges that cross the river in her city. Mary’s use of charcoal as a medium and her metallic-structural subjects join together and offer one pure art experience. 
For her, charcoal is not just a preliminary drawing tool, but she uses it to create masses, and forms, suggesting smoke and cloud vapors, painstakingly smearing it to achieve desired mood. Earlier she had her share of conventional painting education and art exercises as an art school student but she was always attracted to light and dark.  Black and white photography was her starting point as a younger artist and she felt it fascinating to experience how the ordinary world is transformed when translated into black and white. She feels that, a world reduced into this high contrast palette is also suggestive of other elemental ideas and narratives. In the process of forming her own artistic dialect, three artists have influenced her very strongly. Giorgio Chirico’s paintings, Francis Ford Coppola’s movie “Rumble Fish” where a small industrial American city was transformed into a black and white world of intense beauty, and Frank Stella’s monumental sculpture “The Town Ho’s Story” which is created especially for the city of Chicago.

In future she wants to create larger works and is also planning to work on murals without compromising the ‘charcoal and paper’ feel of her work. For some time she is also planning to work on series of illustrations based on Marilynn Robinson’s novel ‘Housekeeping’. It is going to be interesting to witness her artistic journey!

Mary Livoni’s works are simple to perceive and rich in the experience. I loved them! Visit her website to learn more. 

My heartfelt thanks to Mary for her patience with my long e-mails :) and also for sharing pictures with the blog. 

The magic of the ‘Monumental’ (Part 2): Tim Maguire, Volkan Diyaroglu and Zhang Xiaogang

Is there any ‘method’ that artists use to choose a physical size for their painting? Which aspect of the process plays a significant role in this decision? Is it the subject matter, idea, artistic inspiration, artist instinct or practicality? I haven’t come across any definite theory or recommended process that might work as a guideline to decide the ‘right size’ of the painting surface.


It will sound a little crude but I loosely see four categories of paintings as far as painting surface scale is concerned. Good painting on good size, good painting on bad size, bad painting on good size (frankly, very rare) and bad painting on bad size (I don’t care much about which) ;) Let’s not get into what I mean by a ‘good painting’ for it is always an up-close, personal and complex thing to write about. But let’s focus on the ‘good size’.
In the previous post (part 1), I had briefly covered the historical significance of the scale and had promised to write about some of the well-known contemporary artists who are admired not only for their expression but also for the large scale of their works. Here are three of my favorite artists who are from three different corners of the world, and are known for their absolutely different styles and subjects: highly acclaimed Australian contemporary artist Tim Maguire, talented young artist Volkan Diyaroglu from Turkey, and Chinese artist Zhang Xiaogang who is admired for his large scale portrait like paintings.

Tim Maguire: Born in 1958, he has completed his education from the prestigious Kunstakademie, Düsseldorf in 1985. Tim has participated in numerous group shows and many solo exhibitions, and is represented by many well known galleries across the world. When I first came across his very famous large flower paintings, I was thrilled to see his pure painterly approach to the quite simple subject matter. The combination of a large scale, a distinct warm color palette and the dexterous handling of paint makes these paintings look majestic! Currently he is also exploring large scale print-making that involves digital reconstruction of abstract, mystic elements. His prints are also as interesting as his flower paintings. If you happen to be in NYC, there is a solo show of his works at Von Lintel Gallery till June 5th, 2011 which you might want to catch. You could learn more about Tim from his website. 

Volkan Diyaroglu: Born in 1982, this ‘young Turk’ is one of the much admired young artists on the international art scene. Initially he started his art education in Turkey, later he was awarded the prestigious ‘Promoe scholarship’ and continued his education in Valencia, Spain. I was impressed to see his constructive bold style and simple brush work. I feel that his work has a very interesting resemblance to the raw style and primitive forms handled by the great French artist Jean Dubuffet. The choice of large canvases looks quite apt for his expressive work. It gives Volkan’s work a fantastical twist and makes his work really enjoyable. Volkan has been awarded many scholarships and has exhibited widely around the world. You can check out his website to learn more.

Zhang Xiaogang: Born in 1958, Zhang is popular for his ‘bloodline’ series of paintings. He belongs to the ‘top brass’ of the Chinese contemporary art scene. His paintings are exhibited and collected worldwide. If you are looking at the images of his work without knowing the scale, they may not seem very striking. But once you understand that the paintings are in a very large scale, you automatically become curious. His figurative works are stiff in appearance, but that stiffness has a huge bundle of emotional traction which happens behind the scene. The paintings are based on black and white photos of people from 2-3 generations before, from the time when people witnessed critical social and political transitions in China. Although based on photographic references, his paintings are not realistic but are more surreal in nature. I could not locate his official website or a single source of information to direct you to, but it is not very difficult to learn more about Zhang Xiaogang, his work and artistic philosophy from the scattered information available online.

As an end note to this post, I want to express an agreement with the views shared by many of my artist/blogger friends about the ‘monumentality’ in art. Indeed, monumentality is an appearance as well as an experience which goes beyond the scale. These two posts were to discuss good art which has been executed on a good large scale. Let’s discuss ‘monumental’ art particularly accomplished in the small size some other time!

My sincere thanks to Tim Maguire and Volkan Diyaroglu for permissions and providing pictures for this post. I could not contact Zhang Xiaogang for permissions, but I would like to acknowledge various sites for the pictures I have used. A. Chang W. Lee for The New York Times B. Mike Clarke-AFP/Getty Images / Washington Post C. Dan Chung / Geotypographica