Subodh Gupta talks about good art, the clever artist and creative independence

It is ominous when an interviewee refuses to answer the first question that is put to him. It is even more so when he in fact retorts, “Do you have anything interesting to talk about at all?” Obviously, we had to start over. A lot has been said and written about Subodh Gupta—an internationally renowned sculptor, painter and contemporary artist, whose works have been shown in most prestigious art galleries around the world. The positive aspect of a lot of information floating around on the internet is that it makes research easy. The not-so-good aspect is that it makes it harder for journalists to come up with new and fresh things to talk about. For an artist and man like Gupta, this might be boring. In fact, I am being understated. Answering the same questions makes Gupta downright furious. Though he wishes to avoid the stereotypical label of the jhola toting, bearded artist, Gupta does fall into the volatile creative genius category. Like several members of his ilk (and I have had the fortune of meeting a handful), he is quick to lose his patience. However, his temper fizzles out just as quickly as it had risen and after the initial hitch, he opens up about his early life. He goes on to talk about his encounter with Russi Mody, the former Chairman and Managing Director of Tata Steel. The meeting with Mody took Gupta a year to plan and then execute, “When I was in Patna, a friend told me that Mody loved modern and contemporary art. He asked me to get in touch with him and show him some of my pieces.” That simple advice was easier said than done. It took a year-long hunt to find the right man to get to the right man. “I found a Tata Steel representative called Kishore Singh. After I pestered him for a long time, he agreed to introduce me to Mody. But it took several trips to Calcutta (now Kolkata) and Jamshedpur to finally get to meet the man. It was worth all the trouble. Mody not only encouraged me, but also bought three of my pieces. That gave me the freedom to think about possibilities and to eventually move out of Bihar,” Gupta admits. The money gave Gupta the option to move out of his hometown. However, the question remained— where to? After giving it some thought, Delhi seemed to be the natural choice for the man who was only a young college student at the time. The capital was “right”, he informs us, as it was neither too familiar like the friendly-neighbourhood town of Calcutta nor too “English-speaking” and alien like Bombay (now Mumbai). “Coming from Bihar, there were only two cities that excited me. On my left was Calcutta and on my right was Delhi. People in Delhi spoke in Hindi. And I did not wish to join the legions of artists coming out of Bengal. I was doing completely different work, why would I wish to mould myself into something that I was not?” he says. He goes on to add, “For people of Bihar, Calcutta is familiar. It feels a lot like home. I wanted to get away from home.” Thus, Gupta arrived in his city of dreams and made it his home for nearly two decades. Like with many good artists, Gupta’s rags-to-riches story began with a struggle. But far from being daunted by it, the young man from Khagaul in Bihar only found that it fuelled his drive to succeed. So independent rewards. And it’s not only about the money or the spellbound audience, but also about the knowledge that all of it was hard earned. As he explains, “There is always that possibility that the people you help, you actually end up hindering. It’s all right to be less known and struggling and finally emerge as an entity with your own unique signature, rather than be helped and then emerge as a photocopy of a muchbeloved senior artist.” Gupta certainly practices what he preaches. The artist is known to have declined a job offer from the legendary M.F. Husain during his early days of struggle. Urban legend has it that Gupta, who was introduced to Husain by Urdu activist Kamna Prasad, was offered a job by the great artist to assist him in a few odd jobs and work on his art alongside. Gupta, to Prasad’s horror, politely declined the offer. Already impressed with Gupta’s art, Husain later told Prasad that he was “going to follow the boy.” Today, the artist who is popularly known as the Damien Hirst of India has an artistic style that isintriguing and a bit eccentric. Buckets, tiffin boxes and cow dung - all are grist for his mill. I wanted to know what his technique was, how he gave shape to his ideas and came up with unusual art using many everyday objects. He informs me, “Technique is very important in art, no doubt about it. But the content of art and the subject of art trumps all other concerns such as training and technique. I am a multimedia artist and I use various techniques when I am working, which also includes the computer. I use traditional mediums such as canvas and paint. I perform on stage. What needs to be figured out is which piece of art demands which specific technique. For an artist, ideation is a 24X7 task. A good idea can come at any time. As an artist it is my job to think about an idea. If I am thinking all the time then I am working all the time. However, the process from the mind into material is not a smooth one. A great idea strikes and then there’s this euphoric feeling. The next morning I wake up and think ‘bakwas’. If you think of something for the longest time–us me kuchh bat hogi.” This ‘24X7 approach’ is something that Gupta is well-known for. Various observers have dubbed him one of the ‘hardest working artists’ in India. While there is great demand for his work these days, Gupta kept up a relentless pace and churned out creations even when buyers were few and far between. All the effort paid off and sales of his work saw a meteoric rise when he was still in his thirties. Obviously, he had struck a chord with the buyers. Gupta is unapologetic in his belief that there is such a thing as a “clever artist”. “A clever artist is someone who identifies the right technique and looks within himself for the right idea. How clear you are with your thoughts and how well you execute them visually will ascertain whether you are a clever artist. Whether you are good or bad will happen later. Let’s say I have a fantastic idea and no clue how to execute it. Say, I have executed something brilliant most disastrously, once again it all becomes rubbish. Execution and idea need to go hand in hand.” And where does the art audience fall into the equation? For Gupta, the viewer, the buyer and the aficionado are all a big part of the process. “Name an artist you know, who is a force to reckon with, and has chosen to remain anonymous. Why would you create anonymously? What is the purpose of art if it is not to be shared? Of course, I know that I will be showcasing my art. But am I creating that for others? The creation bit is all me.” Naturally, Subodh Gupta is a clever artist—and if you ask art critics and connoisseurs, he is a great one. So who does he believe to be great? Like most of his interview, there is no quick answer to this question either. But K.G. Subramanyan’s name is dropped ever so often. F.N. Souza, too, is mentioned in the conversation, as is M.F. Husain, the first artist to notice the tour-de-force which was soon to be Subodh Gupta.