He claims to have broken bread with the likes of Pablo Picasso, Max Ernst and Mark Rothko. And been friends with Mexican poet and Nobel laureate Octavio Paz and famous art dealer, Henri Khanweiler. He also asserts of having hosted many Indian artists including Maqbool Fida Husain, in his younger days. He speaks of most of the contemporary Indian masters with amazing familiarity, referring to them by their first names.
Without doubt, Ravi Kumar has been through some of the most fascinating times in the world of art. “They were all great artists, and the whole world knew about them,” he recalls about Parisian artists of the 1960s and 70s. “They were also good human beings. Sincere and honest in their work. When they would paint or sculpt, nothing mattered to them. Not money, not fame, nothing.”
Kumar left India in January 1960 as a young boy. He had no formal education of any worth when he bought the ticket to cross the sea, but he says with pride that his destination had always been crystal clear to him. “In these four decades in Paris, I have worn many hats,” says Kumar. “As an art collector, publisher, curator, and patron. More importantly, even in the midst of the best of European art, I have never disregarded my interest in India, its art, philosophy and culture. I have continually promoted Indian art and artists, and hosted many young Indian artists in Paris and other cities of Europe.”
As a publisher, Kumar has brought out books on Tantra Art (1966), Tantra Asana (1970), L’art Tantriue with Octavio Paz and Henri Michaux (1970), Ragamala Paintings with Klaus Ebling, Buddhist Paradise – the Murals of Alchi Ladakh with Dr Pratapditya Pal (1981), Jain Cosmology with Colette Cailat (1982). His much acclaimed show and book ‘Seven’, featured India’s foremost abstractionists like S H Raza, Rajendra Dhawan, Akhilesh, Sujata Bajaj, and others. He recently curated a month-long exhibition of contemporary Indian artists which opened in Moscow in May this year; it displayed the paintings of 25 leading Indian artists including those living in Paris, Copenhagen, London and New York.
The 70-year old art afficionado, who was conferred with Chevalier de l’Ordre du Merite Nationale by the French government in 2005, passed through Bangalore recently. Looking fresh from a health rejuvenation programme in Kerala, Kumar enthusiastically shared his views on contemporary Indian art. “When I embarked on the book ‘Seven’, Indian art was still in its cocoon waiting to be discovered in all its magnificence. Now in less than a decade, Indian art is enjoying the crest of a wave of recognition and auction houses and dealers in India are scooping up the profits that are milking the money in contemporary Indian art.”
What would he tell the buyers of Indian art today? “Please put your act together. When you are buying art, let it be an informed and intelligent decision. Take time to evaluate the true artistic and aesthetic merit of the works. Keep away from hyped up names. Look for young talent. And don’t blindly follow the advice of self-proclaimed experts and galleries.”
And what does he think of Indian artists? “Oh! They are all very commercial minded. Outside India, artists are more honest and dedicated. They take more inward plunges. They aspire to grow and evolve. Here artists are happy repeating their work. Everyone is after a winning formula of how to increase per square-foot price! Many Indian artists have become production houses. That is not what art should be. In my own search, I look for maturity in the artist, not productivity. Thankfully, there is hope. That is why I am committed to promoting Indian art abroad, come what may.”
It is not that Ravi Kumar’s own reputation in India is without blemish. Artists find him to be a hard haggler and even snooty when it came to pricing and payment. Galleryists often see him as shrewd, irksome and exasperating. Kumar laughs away such scorn. He has already set his sight on the next big show. “That would be in 2009, at Tate Gallery, London - with top Indian artists.” One final question, did he really own those Picassos and Matisses? “Well, I did have some, but sold them to finance my publication and other projects. Mind you, I am a fakir. I collect art but never possess it. I have no attachment to anything.”
