Midlife crisis

Battles in the art world can be pretty fierce, especially since mediocrity cannot be wished away on a bad hair day. Art criticism is, by its very nature, subjective, and skirmishes between artist and critic are par for the course — but rarely do critics agree with each other either. Which is why it was gratifying that in a recent discussion with a retired art critic we found ourselves agreeing that it took artists about two decades to mature (his view), around which time they might undergo a metamorphosis of style (my observation), give or take a few years.

Having settled on something, we were eager to supply each other with names, of which there seemed no scarcity: S H Raza (from landscape artist to painter of bindus), Tyeb Mehta (abstractionist to figurative artist), V S Gaitonde (from figurative artist to calligraph-inspired abstractionist to total non-representational painter), Jamini Roy (from painting in the realistic style to folk-modernism), Ram Kumar (from figurative artist to landscapist to abstractionist), G R Santosh (from landscape and figurative artist to tantrist), Rameshwar Broota (social satirist to powerful figurative abstractionist), though in some cases like M F Husain (in his choice of subjects) or F N Souza (in his medium, painting on glossy printed paper when he moved to New York), the shift was less discernible.

Most art-lovers lose track about the early styles of artists in the collective frenzy of their later, popular approach. What does this mean for a serious collector and, just as importantly, for their value? While Raza’s works from the ’40s to the ’60s may surprise many — did he really paint like that? — what is their worth for the collector? Should it be higher for its rarity or lower because it is seemingly less popular? For those who collect influenced by an artist’s recognisable style, earlier works may hold less value — that’s a Gaitonde? no! — while for a serious or knowledgeable collector, it’s a rare find that will have consequence.

In the case of the senior modernists, this dichotomy is only just beginning to play out in the market. But can one draw parallels with their juniors who currently hover around the approximately two decades of art practice that marked the point of transition for their seniors? Are they changing their style, or likely to?

There is very little that hints at such transition. Most contemporaries began to experiment early in their careers, found success within their first rather than the end of the second decade, and have rarely strayed from the styles and subjects that gained them popularity. Like their seniors, therefore, they’ve come to represent a fixed idea — Subodh Gupta works with/on steel utensils, Bharti Kher is rarely divorced from her bindis, G R Iranna’s sculptures deal with the abject state of humankind, Atul Dodiya does social issues, N S Harsha repeats images to create massive canvases as an ode to lack of individuality, Jitish Kallat is a flagbearer for digital art, and so on.

The economic recession could have been the catalyst for them to break free but most have opted for continuity over change, choosing a deeper engagement for their conviction with their current work, or perhaps to ensure that the market does not run away from them. It is nobody’s case that stagnation has set in, but will it call for a midlife crisis to wean away from a language of obsolescence? Fortunately, by the time the verdict is out, it will be time for newer collectors, and critics, to make sense of it.

Kishore Singh is a Delhi-based writer and art critic. These views are personal and do not reflect those of the organisation with which he is associated