 "The impulsive collector")
Samir Modi buys art regularly and often on an impulse. Contemporary curios are what attract the managing director of ColorBar Cosmetics and Twenty Four Seven convenience stores. At his palatial farmhouse in Chhatarpur, New Delhi, natural light shines down in abundance, throwing artworks on muted pastel walls in sharp relief.
"I like my artworks to be lit up naturally but I do take care to keep them away from direct sunlight," says Modi, alternating between taking business calls and petting his dogs, Muffin and Munchy.
His penchant for collecting art, albeit on his own terms, is evident as varying works peep out from every corner - whether it is the imposing Binoy Verghese acrylic on canvas titled Multistoreys/Stories, prominently hung high on a wall in the living room, or the bronze relief Untitled head by G Ravinder Reddy staring at you from a table. "We don't have to hire a decorator to arrange the art. My wife and I take turns in the display arrangements," says Modi. His parents own classics by artists such as M F Husain, S H Raza and Anjolie Ela Menon but Modi is drawn more to contemporary art - photographs, paintings, sculptures, installations and artworks from different places and cultures. For instance, he bought hand-wrought Lombok boxes from Java and a wooden carved horse from Sri Lanka. "I buy art because I like it, there's no motive behind it or a craving to buy only well-known names. If something catches my eye and I can afford it, it's mine," says Modi, outlining his collecting philosophy. There is one classic at the Modi house, though, a Jamini Roy work displayed in a dark corner of the living room.
Modi insists that he has no regrets when it comes to his investments in art, impulsive as they are. The only instance he can recall with regret took place decades ago, when "I debated within myself about buying this new unheard-of artist called Subodh Gupta!" His friends advised him against it and to this day he rues having gone against his instincts. He is also a fan of Bangladesh-based artist Tayeba Begum Lipi and confesses having chased her for over two years after he fell in love with a work of hers that he saw in a Sotheby's catalogue. "I wanted it desperately, and finally managed to convince her to part with it. But now that I've acquired it, I haven't found a place to put it up yet - such is the irony of life," he says.
There are many quirky artworks around as well, such as an interesting barbershop chair displayed on a stairway landing, and a glass showpiece of "a woman's journey through life", filled with miniatures ranging from a sewing machine to sindoor. Modi comes across as an interesting and indulgent buyer, a curious mix of half-novice, half-pro.
On my way out, I notice an installation, which is undoubtedly one of Sachin George Sebastian's fascinating paper structures. Titled Metropolis and City Planners, his cuttings on acid-free paper explore the medium and his cityscapes offer an insight into the beauty and monstrosity of the metropolis, an oddly befitting parallel here.
"I like my artworks to be lit up naturally but I do take care to keep them away from direct sunlight," says Modi, alternating between taking business calls and petting his dogs, Muffin and Munchy.
His penchant for collecting art, albeit on his own terms, is evident as varying works peep out from every corner - whether it is the imposing Binoy Verghese acrylic on canvas titled Multistoreys/Stories, prominently hung high on a wall in the living room, or the bronze relief Untitled head by G Ravinder Reddy staring at you from a table. "We don't have to hire a decorator to arrange the art. My wife and I take turns in the display arrangements," says Modi. His parents own classics by artists such as M F Husain, S H Raza and Anjolie Ela Menon but Modi is drawn more to contemporary art - photographs, paintings, sculptures, installations and artworks from different places and cultures. For instance, he bought hand-wrought Lombok boxes from Java and a wooden carved horse from Sri Lanka. "I buy art because I like it, there's no motive behind it or a craving to buy only well-known names. If something catches my eye and I can afford it, it's mine," says Modi, outlining his collecting philosophy. There is one classic at the Modi house, though, a Jamini Roy work displayed in a dark corner of the living room.
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Then there is splendidly painted Roopmati, one of his favourite works, displayed at the head of the living room. It is an autorickshaw, painted in bright pops of pink and yellow by the trio of Mithu Sen, Jayasri Burman and Nayanaa Kanodia, with chains of pearls hanging from a lace-covered rooftop. "As I keep buying new artworks every year, I do change things around the house, but Roopmati isn't going anywhere else," says Modi with a laugh. He has a new art room under construction to make space for his increasing collection.
Modi insists that he has no regrets when it comes to his investments in art, impulsive as they are. The only instance he can recall with regret took place decades ago, when "I debated within myself about buying this new unheard-of artist called Subodh Gupta!" His friends advised him against it and to this day he rues having gone against his instincts. He is also a fan of Bangladesh-based artist Tayeba Begum Lipi and confesses having chased her for over two years after he fell in love with a work of hers that he saw in a Sotheby's catalogue. "I wanted it desperately, and finally managed to convince her to part with it. But now that I've acquired it, I haven't found a place to put it up yet - such is the irony of life," he says.
There are many quirky artworks around as well, such as an interesting barbershop chair displayed on a stairway landing, and a glass showpiece of "a woman's journey through life", filled with miniatures ranging from a sewing machine to sindoor. Modi comes across as an interesting and indulgent buyer, a curious mix of half-novice, half-pro.
On my way out, I notice an installation, which is undoubtedly one of Sachin George Sebastian's fascinating paper structures. Titled Metropolis and City Planners, his cuttings on acid-free paper explore the medium and his cityscapes offer an insight into the beauty and monstrosity of the metropolis, an oddly befitting parallel here.