 "Tataguni Estate")
A nondescript gate and an equally forgettable board welcome me to a 468-acre property on the outskirts of Bengaluru. The board reads: Tataguni (Roerich) Estate. The air smells fresh and green as I walk down the long pebbled pathway which offers a view of the newly-made five-acre rose garden. As I continue down, the words “curated forest” come to mind, a curated forest with a number of bored dogs and fierce puppies.
Accompanying me on this cobbled walkway are two of the three policemen on duty at the estate, and a well-aged gardener named Kadrappa who always carries a garden sickle with him. “You never know when you might need it,” he says in Kannada.
While the policemen are here because the estate has recently recovered from years of litigation, Kadrappa has worked at the estate for over 25 years, tending the gardens for Devika Rani, the first lady of Indian cinema and grandniece of Rabindranath Tagore, and her husband, Svetoslav Roerich. Besides his landscapes and portraits, Svetoslav is also known for his father’s legacy — he was the son of Russian artist, archaeologist and theosophist Nicholas Roerich.
After a large patch of mighty Banyan trees that arrest my attention with their twisting and turning aerial roots, a spacious cottage comes into view. With stone pillars and teak wood beams, this house is about 80 years old. The red Mangaluru tiles on the roof stand out rather distinctively against a backdrop of green forest cover..
Devika Rani
While the house has been restored, Svetoslav’s studio space still needs to be patched up. That, says Manu Baligar, chief executive of the Board, is part of the second phase of the extensive project. “Besides an art gallery, we’ll also have a place for artists in residence on the estate. We’ve already planted a five-acre rose garden in the estate and are planning a second rose garden of the same size,” says Baligar, adding that 100 acres of the estate is maintained by the forest department as a “tree garden”. Out of the Rs 25 crore allotted for the museum, about Rs 85 lakh has been spent till now.
When the idea of museum initially floated in, the estate was to be modelled after Vincent van Gogh’s museum in Amsterdam, though Baligar rejects this. “Let’s just say we are working towards something that boasts of international standards,” he says. While the estate in itself is a sprawling beauty, its immediate comparison is with the Roerich Estate in Kullu, Himachal Pradesh, where Nicholas spent the last 20 years of his life. Spread across about 16 hectares, this property is a tourist attraction with 37 paintings by Nicholas and 12 by Svetoslav. In contrast, over 240 paintings by the Roerichs are locked away at the Venkatappa Art Gallery in Bengaluru. This is apart from the work that Karnataka Chitrakala Parishath has on display.
The collection at the Venkatappa gallery, assures Baligar, is “well-conserved” and will be moved once the museum is ready. “The first step was to survey the property — that lets people know that they can’t encroach.” Three borewells are new additions here, and boundary stones have been erected following incidents of encroachment and tree-felling. “We’ve also cleaned out the seven-acre lake that had dried up.”
Kadrappa leads the way to the lake, and en route falls the marbled tombs of his former employers. The tombstones have their names in English, Russian and Kannada. As he climbs up the steps leading to the samadhis, he removes his shoes and turns around to see if others are following suit. He doesn’t insist, but hopes others will do so too. “They were good people but I couldn’t talk to them much because we didn’t speak the same languages.”
Kadrappa then asks us to sniff a twig he plucks from one of the many Bursera trees. This is a rare variety and the fragrance is sweet and earthy. “Sir and Madam would use these for making perfume,” he says, pointing to the now-defunct linaloe oil extraction plant. Svetoslav had bought saplings from Mexico; healthy and green, these trees have cleared the test of time. “It’ll take one more year to finish the next phase which includes restoring the studio and oil extraction plant. The work has paced up now that all legalities have been dealt with,” says Baligar, who’s resigning from the board for personal reasons.
Kadrappa’s sickle comes in handy as he quickly picks up a Russell’s viper from our path and lets it go towards the forest that engulfs the estate — the elephant corridor connecting the Bannerghatta National Park and Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary passes through the estate’s less accessible areas.
Pointing out to paw marks in the wet soil, Kadrappa says, “That’s a leopard’s print. They come here at least twice a week. It feels safer to have dogs around.” He proceeds to walk up to one of the stone benches that overlook the lake. “They would always sit on this bench and Sir would often paint here. Now that the lake has water again, peacocks and deer have started coming back,” says Kadrappa as a family of ducks bobs in and out of the water.
