Modernist outpost

Now that Mamallapuram is drawing attention as the venue for the Modi-Xi informal summit, one can only hope the two heads of state find some time for R&R other than visiting the spruced-up Shore Temple, the monolithic rock rathas and the remarkable bas-relief known as Arjuna’s Penance showing the Ganga descending to earth. The seventh-century stone sculptures of Mamallapuram are quite extraordinary, and understandably well known, but there is another spot a mere 35km away where the most extraordinary flowering of modern art occurred and which is well worth a visit, too.

Cholamandal Artists’ Village, set up in 1966, is a remarkable commune that continues to flourish today, even though commerce has encroached where once artistic idealism was its guiding light. Established by KCS Paniker, the leading light of modern art in Chennai who spearheaded the Madras Art Movement in the state capital’s government art college, it was envisaged as a place where trained artists with straitened means could own land, build studios, work, engage with each other and raise funds from the sale of commercially designed products at its shop meant for tourists. It was an artistic society ahead of its time, and while its success can be measured with mindful caveats, no one can doubt its intention.

The Madras Art Movement has remained mostly unacknowledged till recently, but its artists have become known individually, though they may not have enjoyed the success of their counterparts elsewhere. These have included, besides Paniker, painters such as Velu Viswanadhan, K M Adimoolam, M Reddeppa Naidu, K V Haridasan and C Douglas, and sculptors like C Dakshinamoorthy, S Nandagopal and Anila Jacob. Among the artists was the prodigy K Ramanujan, who, with his troubled childhood and mind, still created exceptional, fantastical art. He died tragically young and most of his work, too, is lost to future generations.

Cholamandal Artists’ Village is a remarkable commune that was set up in 1966

Cholamandal was ideally located — away from the city — which has overtaken it since — en route to Mamallapuram and close to the Guindy Snake Park. The recurring snake motif in several artists’ work — most notably of J Sultan Ali — owes as much to its mythic depictions in the former as to its presence in the latter. A late bloomer in terms of modernism in art, Cholamandal’s artists found themselves addressing concerns different from those of their counterparts in Kolkata, Mumbai or New Delhi. As a result, an indigenous resolution that included references to local culture, historic art practices as well as temple architecture came to be represented by them — allowing their work to evolve in a uniquely distinctive language.

Several of Cholamandal’s original artist inhabitants are dead, some like Viswanadhan divide their time between Paris and Cholamandal, others moved away or sold their studios, and there are new occupants who are somewhat removed from the ethos of the Madras Art Movement but have nevertheless carved a space for themselves in contemporary art practice. Families of artists are now the vanguards to its traditions even though these were never ritualised by way of a manifesto.

Cholamandal is today part of the tourist circuit but few visitors realise the role it has played as the last pillar of modernism in the country. Visitors are not allowed to meet with artists in their studios, though their works can be seen in a gallery. As an experiment and an outpost of modernism, Cholamandal is proof of the robustness of the role that art has played in shaping a visual art renaissance in the South. Slow to be recognised, it could get a boost with a high-level state visit. Will Modi and Xi oblige?

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