Dreamer pilgrim

The fantastical imagery on Sakti Burman's canvas is a fusion of both the West and India - with snatches of the surreal and the classical.

Sakti Burman's early validation in Europe puzzles him even to this day. "I would have gladly lived Van Gogh's impoverished life if I could paint like him," he says.

But he didn't need to. One of India's notable contemporary art exports to Paris, Burman always found that he could afford so much more than his contemporaries back home, extracting a living out of meagre government art college salaries.

Part of that success doubtlessly came from his comfortable adoption of an artist expression familiar to Europe then. His impressionistic still lifes, his classicist notions of beauty... one can easily spot the influences of the modern masters.

"In the beginning it was all about the present, I was in a new foreign land soaking in the museums, the cityscape (and the Bohemian counterculture)," as he admits reluctantly).

Rural East Bengal, the setting of his upbringing, was thus nudged to the recesses of his conscious until a trip to India in 1967 renewed his acquaintance with the art and culture of his native land.

"I was noticing everything... the frescos of Ajanta and Ellora, the temple art of Khajuraho, even the artistry of rural deities."

There are still snatches of the surreal and the classical but mostly his fantastical imagery is a fusion of both the West and India. Beautiful women with proportions akin to Titian's Venus, little flautists and drummer boys coexisting with Indian mythical elements like birds and beasts.

"I never tried consciously to appear Indian. I was looking for the most authentic expression and I found it in both the present context and the potent force of memory." Noticeably, his spoken accent is the same, suggesting both Indian and French provenance (although his natty appearance is all French). "I'm a mixed up thing," he laughs.

"The great quality of his work is that its Indianness is actually quite universal; characters that don't look totally Indian or exclusively European," says Manasji Majumder, who composed Dreamer on the Ark, an essay on the life and works of Burman.

Adding to this distinctive identity is his unique background marbling technique that lends it perceived historical value. Not unlike the frescos of Ajanta that he so adores.

Every so often realism surfaces amid the day-dreamy quality of his work. In "Artist with Estelle", Burman places himself in the canvas holding his granddaughter as he paints an image of an older child. "Is that how you imagine her grown up?" asks a visitor to the exhibition.

"No, that's just an image of a girl dancing, but I like your explanation better," he answers good-naturedly. "Burman is definitely less cerebral than he is spontaneous, yet his canvases are replete with references and allusions to keep you engaged intellectually and emotionally," says Majumder.

Most often though, realism is overwhelmed by a dream world of peace and harmony, where hope prevails and good always triumphs over evil. "If you don't dream, you are nothing," he says. "Do you need me to say more?" he asks, bowing me out.