Until 2005, Sudhir Patwardhan lived two lives — that of a radiologist and a painter. If the former was his primary occupation, the latter occupied the better part of his life. The two ends of the spectrum have always co-existed in his world with one informing the other. The Mumbai-based artist’s works have always represented the concerns of the people and his latest exhibition, Spectres, once again inspects the concept of public space in India and the idea of loneliness.
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How do you view your journey in the world of art wherein you have constantly changed your language of expression?
The journey has been very exciting as I made wonderful friends in the art world, from whom I learnt a lot, and could share my work with them. I have also been lucky that my work has found acceptance with a wide range of viewers— from connoisseurs and critics to the lay viewers of art. The subject matter and style I would say have remained fairly consistent, moving between people, city, suburbs, panoramas and close-ups, in a realist style. Within a broad realist style, I have moved between an expressionist mode and a more classical mode. Also from oil painting to acrylic, I have also done a lot of drawing and some terracotta sculpture.
Your body of work has always depicted societal concerns, with Mumbai as a pivotal character. Why are you drawn towards these themes?
From the beginning, I saw art as something connected with everyday life. When I moved to Bombay in 1973, the city had a big impact on me. My days were spent travelling among crowds - in the locals and buses. So that became my natural subject matter.
You tend to explore the psyche of the subjects and its relationship with the surrounding. Why is it so?
People are my main concern. I see them along with the environment they inhabit and the other people around them. As a painter, I have to construct spaces that can express this understanding of people’s relations to each other and to their surroundings. You may call it a painter’s sociology. But ultimately you have to experience the work of art.
In this exhibition, you paint a picture of loneliness, especially the isolation that comes with old age. Has the intention of highlighting this emotion been deliberate?
In a way, yes. Old age does bring with it a realisation of loneliness. But not all in a negative way. I see this being alone as a necessity and a need. And companionship at this stage may mean being silently together too.
We see you in every frame —be it Compass, Erase or Home. Did the thought of blurring the boundaries between personal and public space ever bother you while creating these works?
It is a difficult choice, how much of your private life you reveal in art, and how much you camouflage. Especially, because it is not just your life, but a shared life. One must keep a grip on the authenticity of feeling that you seek, and then put your trust in the viewers’ sensitivity and discretion.
You work Another Day in the Old City shows the congested yet colourful and homogeneous life of an old city. It is a reminder of the times when we were a close-knit community and not isolated like today.
The work is based on my experience of Pune, where I have spent many years of my childhood and youth, and where we return regularly. So it is about the nostalgia of how the city was and some sadness about how it is changing. But it is also about the beauty of this present ‘khichadi’ mix of the old and new. I think the life of communities has definitely deteriorated, but we also tend to idealise the past and our childhood times. I think nostalgia can be positive when informed by a correct sense of history.
How your practice as a radiologist has shaped your art?
It was the daily interaction with patients that influenced me as a painter. I observed the realities of life while listening or speaking with them. One is made to feel humble when one sees suffering. And one realises that one must use one's power and influence with sensitively and full respect for the other person.
What kind of relationship do you share with your subjects?
I choose a subject because I am attracted to it — be it a human figure or a landscape. If it is a human figure, I try and give the figure its autonomy, without losing my identification with it. I try not to exploit the subject in the name of self-expression. The artist’s ethics does involve being true to his own vision — that is true to what he feels, experiences and sees inside himself and outside. But critically examining his own feelings and thoughts is also part of this ethics.
Do you think that an artist should use his craft as a tool to highlight social issues?
This is a personal choice that every artist makes — to take an open stand on issues or to make social interventions. What matters for his art is what he believes, not whether he announces his beliefs openly or not.
(Spectres can be viewed until November 24 at Vadehra Art Gallery, Defence Colony, New Delhi)