Sunandini Banerjee makes the cover into a canvas with stunning visuals and digital creativity

One is usually not advised to ‘judge a book by its cover’, but when it comes to the books and catalogues that Seagull Books bring out, that is exactly what one is tempted to do. The artist-designer-visualiser behind these beautiful and gripping designs is Sunandini Banerjee, who is today both Senior Editor and Senior Graphic Designer with the publishing house. A student of English literature from Jadavpur University, Kolkata, Sunandini admits that she “can’t even draw a tree”. But that did not stop her from acquiring a reputation not only as a great designer of book covers, but also as an artist who has three exhibitions to her credit. Today, she designs all of Seagull’s books, book covers and catalogues. So how does an editorial assistant become an expert on the art of the book? With inspiration, vision and the brilliant use of technology. As Sunandini puts it herself, “Pictures—photographs, street-signs, hoardings, paintings, drawings, coloured pages in magazines— all of these fascinated me. Different types of lettering, lettering and image together, all caught my eye. But I didn’t quite know what to do with this, till I started working with books and on the computer.” Distilling a lifetime of observation into practice, she found the combination of the scanner, Photoshop and QuarkXpress a hugely liberating experience. Of course, every budding artist needs a supportive patron or mentor and for Banerjee, that person was Naveen Kishore, Publisher of Seagull Books. Acknowledging his contribution, she says, “He continues to give me the space and the encouragement to do more and be more.” When trying to ascribe a genre to her work, ‘collage’ is the word that springs readily to mind. But if the image you come up with is that of many layers in a particular medium or style, then it would be an incomplete definition. Her work certainly operates at many levels—visual, emotional, literary and often, humorous. But there is more to her art than a simple patchwork of images. Explaining how she tries to fit the cover to the content, Banerjee says, “My covers are not always only about the book in front of me. Other books, other stories, other memories, other places—everything makes its way into a cover. I go with my gut and try to convey both what the book is about and what I think it is about. I think about what it reminds me of, what else I have read about it, a song it brings to mind or a colour that flashes in my memory in response to the words. A cover interprets, talks, laughs, comments, underscores, reminds and prompts.” (Little wonder, then, that readers spend time interpreting the covers for a while before they flip the page). There is no uniformity to Banerjee’s process when it comes to designing the covers. Step one consists of working off a short blurb describing the contents of the book. From that point, like all creative endeavours, it takes on a life of its own. Sometimes the title is evocative enough to bring images to mind. When that happens, the whirl of activity begins as Banerjee looks around for what she can use: a photograph, a newspaper clipping, a line drawing or something to scan. And by slow degrees, layer upon layer gets built as objects, emotions and visuals come together in an impactful whole. At other times, the connection is harder to make as authors ask for something different (once she had to do 39 options for a cover!) and the images don’t come together satisfactorily. When that happens, it is back to the drawing board for Sunandini. Sometimes, if the blurb is not enough to conjure the images, then she reads the book in greater detail, or corresponds with the author for a starting point for her imagination. As she puts it, “There is no formula; it’s all about instinct and spontaneity.” In 2003, Sunandini Banerjee designed her first Seagull Books catalogue, and today their catalogues are as anticipated as the next title. In contrast to designing a book cover, the catalogue is more of a team effort, with a lot of time being spent planning the look and content. Once the contributions are in, the process begins for Banerjee. “Last year, the theme of the catalogue was ‘Loss’ and we requested our publishing friends and colleagues from all over the world to send in their writings, extracts, poems and thoughts on loss. Then I came up with the idea of using old family photographs to illustrate those writings, because, to me, nothing conjures up more nostalgia and affection for ‘the lost’ than old family albums”, says Banerjee, trying to explain the intuitive quality to her work. Though Sunandini does not consider herself an artist in the literal sense of the word, there is no doubt that her work deserves a place in the annals of modern art—as evinced by her shows at the India Habitat Centre. Words like ‘fresh’ and ‘different’, clichéd as they may be, certainly apply to her work. There is no tried and tested formula to her efforts, as she goes seeking inspiration anywhere she can, which in turn lends her work a universal appeal. As she puts it, “Inspiration knows no borders. I am a global citizen, as is the rest of my generation. I grew up reading in English and Bengali; listened to classical and contemporary music from the West and East; and watched Hollywood, Bollywood and Tollywood. A tree is a tree anywhere in the world. I will not use lotuses, peacocks and paisleys because I am Indian. I grew up being at home in the world’s imagination. I would be disappointed if my work did not reflect that magnificent canvas.” Her work does indeed reflect a very broad canvas and many of her designs also have a subtle touch of humour about them. Ask her and she says, “Laughter is a great band-aid for the hurts and bruises that life inflicts upon you. Laughing at and with yourself is essential if you don’t want that swelling ego-balloon to burst. Some of the visual jokes in my work are deliberate, like a ploy to see how many people in the world get the joke and laugh out loud. Some are qu eter; I’m sharing a joke with myself though I’m aware the viewer is eavesdropping. Some are a reminder to myself and to anyone who’s watching: Don’t take this too seriously. I didn’t.”