<p>No idea! That’s what M Senathipathi had said to KCS Panicker, his ex-principal of Chennai’s Government College of Fine Arts, when quizzed on what he planned to do next. The year was 1965. In the 60s, artists were a disrespected species in South India, as hardly any painting got sold for much more than its material cost. And those who studied art mostly chose between getting into the booming Tamil film industry or becoming a ‘drawing master’ at some school. <br /><br /></p>.<p>Young Senathipathi (a Tamil name that means army general) had wanted to do neither; his heart was set on a career in art. Choosing art for a career was a brave choice for a young man of that era, especially for a newly wed young man who carried on his shoulders the responsibility of earning to support a family.<br /><br />That was when Panicker invited him to be part of Cholamandal, an artists’ commune. Not yet a reality, Cholamandal was then just an idea that Panicker was dreaming about. The idea was to settle down in a village outside Chennai en route to Mahabalipuram, and sell craft like batik and terracotta work to the tourists passing by, thus make money to keep them afloat and buy canvas and paint to do fine art.<br /><br />Giant leap<br /><br />Senathipathi accepted the invitation. Thus did an unassuming young man from a farming family in a tiny village in Cheyyur, Tamil Nadu, become a founding member of one of the earliest and most outstanding artists’ commune in the country, whose member artists include illustrious names like P S Nandan, Haridasan, S Nanda Gopal, Vasudev, K Jayapala Panicker, Gopinath, M V Devan and Richard Jesudas besides Senathipathi, of course. These artists are credited with shaping the Madras Movement of Art (1950-1980s). Alongside his own progress as an artist, Senathipathi has been one of the chosen few who have seen Cholamandal take shape as the largest artists’ commune in India, and a unique one for the world, for it is the only non-government funded, self-sufficient artists’ commune devoted solely to visual arts. <br /><br />Senathipathi is now one of the best-known figurative artists of India, and is the current president of Cholamandal Artists’ Village.<br /><br />Today, looking back at a 55-year-old career in art, Senathipathi is in no mood to retire and sit back. He is now working concurrently on three paintings on paper, and is planning ahead for a solo show in Bengaluru early next year. “An artist can’t keep his hands quiet. But my backache doesn’t let me produce voluminous work anymore,” says this 76-year-old, who until a decade back used to paint for 12 hours at a stretch, every single day. <br /><br />The sparkle in his eyes when he muses aloud on art makes it obvious that Senathipathi retains the same enthusiasm for art that he had as a six-year-old lad who loved to model temples in mud with his friends, gaze at paintings and saw images swim in his mind’s eye, fired up by his village’s temple festivals and bhajans.<br /><br />The drama and depth of the myths he heard as a child left a lasting impression on him. This fascination still continues and his imagery continues to pay homage to Ram and Sita, to Hanuman, to Radha and Krishna, to Draupadi... Indeed, the first painting that made an impression on him was one of Krishna playing the flute. It was a small wall painting which his father had gotten a wall painter to paint on their house’s thinnai (open veranda of a village hut, with stone seating and a sloping roof).<br /><br />Fortunately, despite his rustic life, Senathipathi’s father understood the young lad’s leaning towards art. Spurred by the advice of the drawing master at Maduranthakam High School where Senathipathi studied, he let Senathipathi enrol at the Government College of Fine Arts in Chennai.<br /><br />In the 70s, Cholamandal was only a collection of huts. Senathipathi used to take a bus from the city to reach Cholamandal, commuting along a dirt track that the East Coast Road was then. There was no electricity; there were no shops and no pucca structures in the vicinity. But the artists didn’t think twice about it. Working in the sea-side hut-studios of Cholamandal, they could see the waves hitting the shore, and the sea and the sky were their close companions. It was a wonderful period of time, though financially the artists had their fingers crossed, since they did not then know that Cholamandal was going to be a success story.<br /><br />In 1969-70, these artists began holding exhibitions of contemporary art in small format (to make the artworks affordable). “We priced our paintings at anything between Rs 25 and 100. Dealers from Mumbai, Pune and Chennai started buying these works in dozens, and our faith was renewed. Cholamandal’s success story slowly took shape,” he says.<br /><br />It soon became clear just why Panicker had invited this young man. Senathipathi’s enigmatic and emotionally-charged paintings soon started to make a name with connoisseurs of art and art dealers alike. In 1988, a British Council grant let him travel to London, France, Holland, Belgium and West Germany and exchange ideas with artists of those countries. But far from de-individualising his art, this exposure only anchored him to his own style that is marked by the imprint of line and colour, with geometric patterns building up an emotional composition and making for a curious contrast. <br /><br />Then in 1973, the Indian Tourism Development Council commissioned a huge mural from him, and there has been no looking back since then. Senathipathi moved into Cholamandal with his family in the 80s. His children (Geetha, Hemalatha and Sarvanan), growing up in the art-soaked environment of Cholamandal, are all successful artists today.<br />Technique title<br /><br />Senathipathi’s technique evolved gradually. Even today, he continues to wield this technique. He first pours water on the canvas/paper and then sketches on it with an ink pen, letting the ink trail into natural smudges. He then completes the imagery with geometric shapes filling the canvas — cubist components in mythical-humanoid art! While the emotions come alive in the expressions and gestures (notably of the hands) etched by flowing lines and moody colours, the contributing composition remains geometric. “The geometric shapes create contrast, depth and beauty,” Senathipathi voices, and he describes his work as abstract-cubist.<br /><br />Painting remains his first love, though he has worked on metal relief and sculptures. We continue to see a huge reference to mother and child, friendship and human behaviour besides mixed emotions like insecurity and contemplation in his paintings. All along, Senathipathi has been focusing on love and beauty — the fragrance of life.</p>
<p>No idea! That’s what M Senathipathi had said to KCS Panicker, his ex-principal of Chennai’s Government College of Fine Arts, when quizzed on what he planned to do next. The year was 1965. In the 60s, artists were a disrespected species in South India, as hardly any painting got sold for much more than its material cost. And those who studied art mostly chose between getting into the booming Tamil film industry or becoming a ‘drawing master’ at some school. <br /><br /></p>.<p>Young Senathipathi (a Tamil name that means army general) had wanted to do neither; his heart was set on a career in art. Choosing art for a career was a brave choice for a young man of that era, especially for a newly wed young man who carried on his shoulders the responsibility of earning to support a family.<br /><br />That was when Panicker invited him to be part of Cholamandal, an artists’ commune. Not yet a reality, Cholamandal was then just an idea that Panicker was dreaming about. The idea was to settle down in a village outside Chennai en route to Mahabalipuram, and sell craft like batik and terracotta work to the tourists passing by, thus make money to keep them afloat and buy canvas and paint to do fine art.<br /><br />Giant leap<br /><br />Senathipathi accepted the invitation. Thus did an unassuming young man from a farming family in a tiny village in Cheyyur, Tamil Nadu, become a founding member of one of the earliest and most outstanding artists’ commune in the country, whose member artists include illustrious names like P S Nandan, Haridasan, S Nanda Gopal, Vasudev, K Jayapala Panicker, Gopinath, M V Devan and Richard Jesudas besides Senathipathi, of course. These artists are credited with shaping the Madras Movement of Art (1950-1980s). Alongside his own progress as an artist, Senathipathi has been one of the chosen few who have seen Cholamandal take shape as the largest artists’ commune in India, and a unique one for the world, for it is the only non-government funded, self-sufficient artists’ commune devoted solely to visual arts. <br /><br />Senathipathi is now one of the best-known figurative artists of India, and is the current president of Cholamandal Artists’ Village.<br /><br />Today, looking back at a 55-year-old career in art, Senathipathi is in no mood to retire and sit back. He is now working concurrently on three paintings on paper, and is planning ahead for a solo show in Bengaluru early next year. “An artist can’t keep his hands quiet. But my backache doesn’t let me produce voluminous work anymore,” says this 76-year-old, who until a decade back used to paint for 12 hours at a stretch, every single day. <br /><br />The sparkle in his eyes when he muses aloud on art makes it obvious that Senathipathi retains the same enthusiasm for art that he had as a six-year-old lad who loved to model temples in mud with his friends, gaze at paintings and saw images swim in his mind’s eye, fired up by his village’s temple festivals and bhajans.<br /><br />The drama and depth of the myths he heard as a child left a lasting impression on him. This fascination still continues and his imagery continues to pay homage to Ram and Sita, to Hanuman, to Radha and Krishna, to Draupadi... Indeed, the first painting that made an impression on him was one of Krishna playing the flute. It was a small wall painting which his father had gotten a wall painter to paint on their house’s thinnai (open veranda of a village hut, with stone seating and a sloping roof).<br /><br />Fortunately, despite his rustic life, Senathipathi’s father understood the young lad’s leaning towards art. Spurred by the advice of the drawing master at Maduranthakam High School where Senathipathi studied, he let Senathipathi enrol at the Government College of Fine Arts in Chennai.<br /><br />In the 70s, Cholamandal was only a collection of huts. Senathipathi used to take a bus from the city to reach Cholamandal, commuting along a dirt track that the East Coast Road was then. There was no electricity; there were no shops and no pucca structures in the vicinity. But the artists didn’t think twice about it. Working in the sea-side hut-studios of Cholamandal, they could see the waves hitting the shore, and the sea and the sky were their close companions. It was a wonderful period of time, though financially the artists had their fingers crossed, since they did not then know that Cholamandal was going to be a success story.<br /><br />In 1969-70, these artists began holding exhibitions of contemporary art in small format (to make the artworks affordable). “We priced our paintings at anything between Rs 25 and 100. Dealers from Mumbai, Pune and Chennai started buying these works in dozens, and our faith was renewed. Cholamandal’s success story slowly took shape,” he says.<br /><br />It soon became clear just why Panicker had invited this young man. Senathipathi’s enigmatic and emotionally-charged paintings soon started to make a name with connoisseurs of art and art dealers alike. In 1988, a British Council grant let him travel to London, France, Holland, Belgium and West Germany and exchange ideas with artists of those countries. But far from de-individualising his art, this exposure only anchored him to his own style that is marked by the imprint of line and colour, with geometric patterns building up an emotional composition and making for a curious contrast. <br /><br />Then in 1973, the Indian Tourism Development Council commissioned a huge mural from him, and there has been no looking back since then. Senathipathi moved into Cholamandal with his family in the 80s. His children (Geetha, Hemalatha and Sarvanan), growing up in the art-soaked environment of Cholamandal, are all successful artists today.<br />Technique title<br /><br />Senathipathi’s technique evolved gradually. Even today, he continues to wield this technique. He first pours water on the canvas/paper and then sketches on it with an ink pen, letting the ink trail into natural smudges. He then completes the imagery with geometric shapes filling the canvas — cubist components in mythical-humanoid art! While the emotions come alive in the expressions and gestures (notably of the hands) etched by flowing lines and moody colours, the contributing composition remains geometric. “The geometric shapes create contrast, depth and beauty,” Senathipathi voices, and he describes his work as abstract-cubist.<br /><br />Painting remains his first love, though he has worked on metal relief and sculptures. We continue to see a huge reference to mother and child, friendship and human behaviour besides mixed emotions like insecurity and contemplation in his paintings. All along, Senathipathi has been focusing on love and beauty — the fragrance of life.</p>
