The thing about an art exhibition in a hallowed space is that even before you enter the gallery, wafts of air-conditioned air laden with smells of paints and public, emptiness and emotion reach you when the door opens and closes for the visitor before you. At least that’s what it does to me. Despite never being an artist and having been a gallerist for years, I feel a rush of excitement and nerves. I know I’m going to be in the exalted company of works of art, art lovers and connoisseurs (well, at least most of them, unless they’re “only” collectors, of course, who are a different breed of people, but exciting nonetheless), and if you’re lucky, the artist him/ herself. That’s one of the highlights. They won’t talk much, most of them; they’re shy, introverted people. Yet, talk to them a bit beyond the pleasantries, a bit into their work, and the door opens, ever so slightly, into a charmed world.

Here, at the India Habitat Center, a sense of calm and peace pervades the gallery, even as Niren himself quietly walks around, now glancing at the collection in silence, now answering an odd question for a visitor. The show is called “40 Years. 40 Works”, a sort of mini retrospective encompassing the career of the accomplished artist, Niren Sen Gupta at the Visual Arts Gallery.

I’m seeing a solo outing by Niren in a long time, and maturity and evolution in his oeuvre is in its full splendour. Beginning with some earlier works of early 1970s, through his Moksha series and now the Ancestor series, there’s a good spread on display. The eyes are absent in the Ancestor series, and the viewer feels at ease, with no obligation to acquaint himself with the protagonist, and engages with his state of mind instead. A ubiquity of fingers, instead, lends an air of sensitivity and imagination. The ancestors are the context, the setting for the coincidence of a man’s birth. Almost the entire canvas of life is spread out at birth, and the journey pretty much meanders through large and small brush strokes on this canvas only.

In Niren’s series, ancestors now fill up an entire canvas, now consume a large part of it, and in one of the most compelling works, IV, they cluster around, crowding even the firmament. “Marvel” looks like an illustration from a storybook, and “Shivpuri Family” reminds one of KG Subramanyan. But my personal favourite was “Bhagirath” with the towering yet gentle figure of the king holding Goddess Ganga in a symbolic urn, even as all of thirsty humanity flanks him for the sacred waters.

The other highlight of the month is the 60th Anniversary show by Lalit Kala Akademi at the Rabindra Bhawan. Though the formal opening was on August 5, I was told to come the next morning. On the lower ground floor, some replicas of Ajanta murals were still being moved around, being mounted or dismantled, I couldn’t make out which. Behind the previous evening’s deepdan and flowers, some women were posing for pictures, even as the rest of the exhibition space had only a sparse smattering of visitors, mostly young artists. A group of Akademi employees walked past me with a printout of images and details, checking the mounted paintings and ticking along.

At the entrance itself of the upper ground floor, where the exhibition actually begins, there is a large Tyeb Mehta in his fully realized form, and inside, a beautiful Akbar Padamsee, and a blue F N Souza, which despite all its grotesque elements in place, cuts a lovely picture. But then, important works of artists in their fully realized form is rare for the rest of the show, where senior and acclaimed artists’ works are either small or unimportant or from their growing phases. For, right next to the Tyeb is a large, but unrecognizable Manu Parekh. Yet, this element of the show also allows you a rare peek into the evolution stage works of, say, Lalu P Shaw or Thota Vaikuntam before they became victims of their signature styles, and two or three exciting early-phase Badri Narayans. There are some other offbeat works. A dry, desert-like landscape by, guess who, Surya Prakash, who is now famed for his verdant, luscious forests. And a soul-stirring landscape by Paramjit Singh, with large blank spaces, laden with meaning; so different from his full fields and forests of today.

A sense of anarchy seems to rule the layout and the work of an exhibition designer and even a curator appears completely amiss in the picture. There is no chronological order in the display, little aesthetic balance, no distinction of genres, not even contemporary art distinguished from the folk and tribal arts. There is little representation of other art forms in the show, a smattering of sculptures, an etching by Anupam Sud, and a linocut by Raj Kumar Mazinder. That’s almost all of it.

I loved the “Tiger on the Bridge” canvas by Bhupen Khakhar and a canvas by Shailesh Joshi. Also worth seeing is an Atul Bhalla’s canvas and a soulful diptych by Arpana Caur. Though the eye keeps searching for works by some much loved artists such as Anjolie Ela Menon, Krishen Khanna, Rameshwar Broota or Sanjay Bhattacharyya, yet, judging by the scattered layout, it’s possible that their works are also hidden among riff-raff.

One thinks that maybe a catalogue with a curator’s note would help make a better connect with the collection, but there is no catalogue for the 60th anniversary show — not yet, at least. One would have expected a path-breaking exhibition from Lalit Kala Akademi, especially to commemorate its 60 years!