Figure Study

During my years of Fine Arts education in Kerala, my peer group and I were deeply influenced by the formal aesthetics of the German Expressionists and the figurative stylisation followed by the IRPSA. This formed a kind of aesthetic school that many student groups aspired to emulate once they became immersed in the cultural environment of Kerala’s Fine Arts institutes in the 1980s and 90s. Those who later moved to Baroda, Delhi, Santiniketan, or Hyderabad for their postgraduate studies often carried this visual language into their advanced work, and many continued using it in their professional practice.

By the later part of my master’s program at the College of Art, New Delhi, I had begun shifting towards a more personal exploration. I found myself inspired by the unique characteristics and the cultural or regional codes of the figures I chose to study carried with them. Living in Bangalore for the past two decades—a city that holds deep Dravidian cultural continuities—further encouraged me to integrate vernacular codes and local cultural aesthetics into my figure studies. This marked a clear departure from the earlier stylistic premises I followed, moving beyond the figurative traditions that shaped much of my generation’s art in Kerala. Working within a rigid stylistic framework like that, I felt, limited the visual possibilities—especially in a country like India, where the dynamic coexistence of vernacular cultures and its interaction with modernisation process create a layered common culture. Considering this aesthetic pluralism felt like a more authentic and original path than continuing with a ‘habituated’ notion of form. It also allowed me to include subaltern elements while staying close to the edges of contemporary art practice in a meaningful way.

Most of these recent figure studies emerged during studio sessions originally designed for 12th-grade students as part of Aditi’s Pre-University Art & Design programme, including the College Portfolio Programme, which I headed for over fifteen years. Though my role was primarily that of a facilitator, these sessions gave me a valuable space to explore and practice drawing. Alternatively, it provided me a hanging spot for my art practice, otherwise so alienated for last many years. Many of the figures I portrayed reflected strong South Indian identities—they often looked like they had walked straight from their village homes into Aditi’s studio. For instance, in the works shared here, one model was a gardener at Aditi and the others were part of the housekeeping team. These individuals form a sub-layer of Bangalore’s broader tech-science- educational profile. They don’t just represent the vernacular; they reflect Bangalore’s micro-economy and its culture of sustainability.

What was interesting is that their appearance and grooming subtly carried certain aesthetic codes and identities of rural Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh, and Tamil Nadu. Yet what stood out to me even more was the quiet dignity they embodied and their fondness for their own sense of femininity. That made all the difference. The resilience of rural womanhood is something I’ve observed repeatedly in my visits to many villages in South. While portraying them, I wanted to maintain that same dignity, and express that quiet celebration of their femininity!

In the most recent study I completed this June, I noticed the colour palette of the model’s sari closely echoed the hues often seen on South Indian temple structures. I decided to develop this character as a central visual code to explore the aesthetic nature of the work.