At Nagji Patel’s superlative exhibition at Akar Prakar, Still, They Speak, the finished sculptures with their varied textures, both polished and rough hewn, and protean — occasionally fantastical — shapes have a contemplative character and individuality. In this, Patel resembles the sculptor, Sushen Ghosh, whose works, too, mirrored the forms of real objects yet not quite, pushed as they were to abstraction.
Patel (1937-2017) was born in Juni Jithardi, a village in Gujarat, to a family of farmers; this spirit of rusticity shaped his artistic vision. Initially, he used to make clay toys like other village children and observe farming implements, which instilled in him
the desire to become a sculptor. Later, he would make drawings of these and, eventually, carve them out of stone, attaching metal or wood appendages that transmogrified them. He joined the painting department of M.S. University, Baroda, but shifted to sculpture, which he felt was more intuitive.
The life and works of Constantin Brancusi, who never forgot his peasant ancestry, stimulated Patel’s creativity. So did his visits to Iraq and Mexico. That is quite evident from his drawings that come alive as human, animal (picture, left) and vegetal life seem to draw sustenance from one another. Patel’s sculpture was infused with the same spirit.
Galerie 88, in association with the department of graphics-printmaking, Rabindra Bharati University, presented Rani Chanda’s linocuts alongside prints by students and teachers in response to the linocuts and her extensive writing. Her Jenana Fatak, which documented her life as a political prisoner (she was a freedom fighter), was a key point of reference. The exhibition was curated by Sujay Mukherjee. The bold lines of Chanda’s linocuts present peaceful life in the Santhal villages of Birbhum untouched by modernity. The clusters of huts amidst nature reveal a utopian vision. The Santhal men and women have taut, slender bodies. It is evident that Chanda admired the works of Nandalal Bose and Abanindranath Tagore. She also made excellent use of negative space. A good number of the works show the close relationship women enjoyed.
That is reflected in the linocuts by the students. Their works in response to Jenana Fatak were impressive. Purabi Jana’s Containment (picture, right) turns the prison into a claustrophobic mousetrap. The strongest of the portraits are the ones by Rohan Poddar and Tithi Basuli. The harshness of life in prison brought the women prisoners together instead of driving them to despair. There is a touch of tenderness in the works of Dipshikha Sarkar, Rohan Poddar, Priya Rani Bhowmik and Saptarshi Banerjee.