Restoring A Slice Of History

But strung along with the cobwebs in the studio is archival value well worth preserving.  A fact the painter in Gaekwad knows. While applauding the trickle of government funds towards the cause of keeping art and history alive, he rues the absence of a private museum culture in India. "With the restoration of each work costing Rs 50,000, extra expense is difficult. The government gives a grant for printing books on related subjects, but insists they be given free; any-thing given free is thrown away." Nor does the government brighten up at the thought of its funds powering lights for museum displays. So most private collections, unlike the well-preserved Gaekwad ones, languish not only unlit, but also unsung. "The concept of private collections being housed in museums is still not active in India. There ’s only the Jodhpur collection. But it’s sad that though Gujarat had a headstart, it didn’t follow it up," he says. Private trusts, there fore   have to prioritise. Which explains why the studio— temporarily being used by Gaekwad himself and US-based Anil Limaye ( pottery)— had been left vulnerable to the ravages of time. But the Gaekwads believe it’s always better late than never.

Exhorting them in the task are honorary director of the National Gallery of Modern Art, Mumbai, Saryu Doshi, who’s written the portfolio text on Varma; art scholar Shanta Gokhale; art historian and painter Ratan Parimoo; and painters Akbar Padamsee and Jehangir Sabavalla. Doshi, as her text explains, thinks that most of the Baroda collection, the single-largest of Varma’s paintings outside of Kerala, were commissioned during his stay here, in self-imposed exile from his homestate Travan-core. Says Parimoo: "In the absence of any such preservation of an artist’s studio, except that of sculptor Debi Prasad Roy Chowdhury in Calcutta, this would

THE studio housing the works of Chowdhury, famous for his Dandi March monument, was acquired by the Calcutta municipal corporation and later restored by the Lalit Kala Akademi as a regional art centre for young artists. Sabavalla believes  the restoration of Varma’s studio would be a similar tribute to the painter who ushered a Western style of painting into India. " It’s sad there’s no concept of developing art history in India. Abroad plaques are put up even on streets where famous persons have been born; homes are converted into muse-ums." Fatehsingh Museum curator Madhav Gandhi says Va rm a ’s own historic printing p ress, Malavali, through which he decided to democratise art by reaching it to the masses and which he had to sell due to plague induced bankruptcies, today lies untended on the Wes- tern Ghats.

Hence the need to welcome initiatives like the Gaekwads’. Never mind the debate between the pro and anti-Varma groups on his relevance to Indian art. "It’s a great effort since it’ll help us acquire archival science still rare in India," says Padamsee. "We have not learnt the relevance of pre s e rving such structures of historical people. I know of Amrita Shergill’s studio in Shimla. But look at the bungalow Gandhi used to stay in Juhu. As long as owner Sumati Morarjee was alive it was well presserved." But with her death he fears the rapacious builders will win. Gokhale too believes the eff o rt ’s worth the man. "The Maharashtra government will spend Rs 74 cro re on a Shivaji memorial at Film City in Mumbai. Why can’t we put in Rs 7 lakh on Va rm a ’s studio?"

The studio, where Va rm a ’s said to have worked from 1882-1894, is a simple brick structure, the only artistic concession being the curlicued doorframe on the side. Only the plinth of the cottage, where he’s believed  to have lived, remains alongside. After the weeds are cleared, landscaping would make it contemporary while car parks and cafeteria would be the concessions to crowds. It could, believes Gaekwad, put Baroda and even Gujarat, on the world tourist map. Particularly as auctions abroad show the immense interest Varma’s works still evoke (his

Begum’s Bath fetched Rs 37 lakh in a ’97 auction in Delhi).

Maharani Subhanginiraje Gaekwad would like to replicate a studio atmosphere with re p roductions of his best paintings and an easel ( preferably with the famous c o ronation picture of his Baroda patron Sayajirao III) and rare photographs of Varma on the wall, with appropriate texts on his lifestory. The reopening of the studio, which after restoration is likely to yield 900 sq ft of exhibition space, will also see the release of a book (not the coffee - table kind, she insists) on the artist— studying the various influences that coloured his brush.

" We believe it was during his stay in Baroda that he produced his best work. We not only take pride in our collection, but feel g reater satisfaction in generating an interest  in art and culture," she says. Parimoo has also suggested a technological exhibit on the process of restoration of Varm a’s works

(Laxm i, Saraswat i, Sita Bhumi Pravesh and  Vasudev and Devaki escaping from prison have been restored by Rupika Chawla).

According to Doshi’s text, Varma (1848-1906), who couldn’t get along with Vishakam Tirunaal (who succeeded his patron ,Maharaja Ayilyam in 1880) moved to Baroda for five years till he was recalled by Maharaja Moolam. But Parimoo doesn’t subscribe to the painter-in-exile theory, and   thinks that except for 1888-92 when he was in Baroda , Varma shuttled between Mysore, Baroda, Kerala and Maharashtra. In between, he must have dashed off to Mumbai to argue his case, filed by an irate believer out-raged at his depiction of a

chol i-less goddess (a case Varma incidentally won). It was dewan Madhavrao, a great Varma fan, who acted  as intermediry, inviting him first in 1881 for King Sayajirao III’s coronation. Varma’s gift, the mythological Sita Bhumi Praves h, clinched a commission deal: Rs 50,000 for 14 paintings for the Laxmi Vilas palace under construction. In fact, when Sayajirao holidayed in Ooty, he invited Varma over. But since the   suspicious British refused permission , Varma had to go to Baroda. Also, since the subjects of his portraits, high-ranking Indian and British officials in the durbar, including the maharanis, couldn’t have moved out of Baroda. Varma perhaps accepted the king’s invitation to stay on. A favoured guest, he was given his own inter-preter. And when he expressed his desire to visit the mythological sites of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, he was sent off on a round of temple towns and festivals to soak in the atmosphere and the influences .

Unlikely, then, that one so favoured during his lifetime should fail to entice a patron after his death. A restored studio would be a testimony to this.