For someone who is a part of most group exhibitions, has a relationship with galleries all over the country, and is on buyer lists, it is strange that Laxma Goud is less well-known than he ought to be. Or, perhaps, that should read that he is somewhat less well-known as a person and an artist, though his art, at least, is well enough known.
Putting a face to him might be difficult, but Laxma Goud’s art is certainly recognisable — the simplistic folk forms and tribal figures that are laced with an underlying eroticism which is perhaps best described in public-school jargon as “randiness”. The sexual prurience can range from the goat as a metaphor for sexuality, to women depicted with bare breasts, to men showing their genitalia, at least one reason why it might embarrass buyers enough to prevent them from hanging Goud’s works in their living rooms or other public areas. Yet, the promiscuous brevity of his Telangana metaphor exercises a strong fascination. Part of it has been fulfilled in the stronger, more vibrant, more decorative and less lewd language of Thota Vaikuntam’s canvases. But Goud, experimenting across mediums ranging from paper to canvas to sculpture, from ink to gouache to watercolour to acrylic, refuses to dilute his imagery.
Goud’s interest in the urban is scanty. His images staunchly reflect his rural origins in Andhra Pradesh. Having studied art in Hyderabad, it was in Baroda that he laid claim to his roots, embracing what many till then considered discomfiting, but which to him seemed merely an extension of his own life and origin. The dark features and colourful clothes of his figures surprise viewers with their intensity, or self-absorption, mostly because they appear unapologetic about their sexuality, something they wear lightly on their sleeve. But Goud can also surprise, changing tack every once in a while to create iconic metaphors that seem to merge the religious with the secular.
Now in his 70s, Goud is still described as being at his peak. Certainly he remains open to experimentation — sculptures being his more recent absorption, though he has always been fascinated by the form. His prices, given his seniority and in comparison to his peers, range widely — from about Rs 1 lakh for a simple pen-and-ink drawing to several lakhs for his paintings. Thus far, his best works range from Rs 5-15 lakh, though they have fetched as much as Rs 25 lakh in auction, and there are rare works priced at considerably more in gallery collections.
For an artist whose works are auctioned at Sotheby’s and Christie’s, by Saffronart and Osian’s, as well as at various charity fundraisers, Goud’s works might appear underpriced. In part, this may be because of his own reticent nature and the ability to capture the market with sleek packaging and sound-bytes, but it is also because his canvases create an uneasy space to which a buyer must commit if he is to enjoy the artist’s work. It is trendy to own a Goud, but his easy availability across a number of galleries allows buyers to get into a bargaining blitz, to the detriment of his prices.
Undervalued artists usually make for long-term bargains, and there is no doubt, given Goud’s own longevity and importance, that those prices will rise. However, here’s a tip: investors may want to spend on less iconic images for their rarity, while those drawn to the artist’s style might prefer his lascivious couples — goat and all.
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
