An Instagram project spotlights shifts and turns in Biplabi Samaddar's artistic practice

Biplabi Samaddar’s Instagram page carries a rather interesting tagline: ‘Rediscovering art after a decade of quiet reflection’. It makes one wonder what being an artist constitutes—does one cease to be called one if not painting actively daily within a studio? Does the mind stop imagining different configurations of observations soaked in over time? It is with these questions that one approaches Samaddar, a former educator at the Delhi Public School, R.K. Puram, Delhi, and once a resident of Garhi Studios. The septuagenarian moved to a village near Bhimtal, Uttarakhand, a decade ago. However, earlier this year, his family decided to start an Instagram page for his art practice. This archival project, of sorts, served a two-fold purpose—for his loved ones to discover more about his artistic journey and also to establish a link between an individual practice and the broader evolution of modern and contemporary art in India.

His recent series, Open Fields, are Samaddar’s meditations on both abstraction and figuration. Geometric lines and tonal shifts evoke memories of lush fields and rural terrains. “The work stands as a testament to a lifelong pursuit of form, art, space and emotion,” states the accompanying note. I find the format interesting—unlike the horizontal frame associated with landscapes, he has chosen a vertical one as the best expression of his idea. Memory and landscapes intertwine in his work. “Floods and droughts continue to be a part of life. And when they take place, the visual of nature changes. I saw a pattern, a design, almost like a logo, imprinted on the landscape. I have tried to capture that in the structure—to articulate the magnitude of havoc across an expanse,” says Samaddar.

He also finds the classification of art as abstract or figurative futile. The viewer need not be encumbered by such demarcations and technicalities. It is like burdening a music enthusiast with details of notations, rhythm and notes, and not leaving the composition to their interpretation. “To me nothing is abstract—either one understands something or fails to grasp it,” he adds.

While his painting ritual has not changed over the decades— “cultivation of visual sensibility is on,” he states—the trove of information and observations within him has expanded. “The mind can interpret, edit memories to create expressions. There can be a single or multiple focal points in visual expression. Flashbacks do take place, but everything gets edited. That’s where the individual stamp of representation takes place,” says Samaddar.

Samaddar’s tryst with art carries imprints of numerous influences—from observing rural Bengal in his childhood to viewing his mother’s drawings and his interactions with K.G. Subramanyan at the Maharaja Sayajirao University, Baroda. “My mother kept an art copy with her throughout her life. Her pencil drawings were quite academic and the lines were very delicate. Her Grade VIII teacher must have drawn on the board and she might have copied them down. She didn’t study beyond that, ” he reminisces. The copy, dating back to the 1930s, was populated with drawings of human eyes from different angles.

However, her engagement with art didn’t end with her school years. She would also make alpana with crushed rice and water on special occasions. “That was my initiation into the world of visual representation. I remember my visit to the Dolls Museum and different historical monuments in Delhi. I think my interest in art and design stemmed from those,” says Samaddar.

Later, the years spent at MSU Baroda between 1977 and 1979 expanded his mind. He would spend hours at the library and found the department of art history and criticism impressive. For his dissertation, he did a comparative study of the Bombay Progressive Group and the Bengal school. “I had many interactions with K.G. Subramanyan, but the most memorable one took place when I was leaving Baroda. He told me: ‘Remember your best friend is your work. It will never deceive you. You are returning to your hometown, it may take two or three years. I am sure something good will happen’,” recalls Samaddar. “K.G. injected within me a strong will to face life’s challenges and pursue my own thoughts undaunted”

It was not just peers or faculty that left a lasting impression. He experienced quiet moments of contemplation and had serendipitous interactions both at Garhi Studios—a shared complex for artists run by the Lalit Kala Akademi—and during his travels through Japan and the US, where he visited most of the contemporary art museums. “I engaged with those works with an open mind. But deep inside, I was aware that my context and sociocultural background was different from the artists being showcased there,” he adds. Back home, the stint at Garhi became a site for experiments with visual structures, and to engage with post-Independence India’s new sociocultural context, and to find a language that articulated that. “The visual compositions became more compact, with newer techniques of colour juxtaposition,” he says.

Around the same time, he became an educator at the DPS R.K. Puram—staying at the school for 34 years. There, he found a way to channel the mentorship he had received at Baroda towards the students at DPS. “My role was to help inculcate a sense or appreciation for art among the students. Later, many of them joined prestigious art institutions both in India and abroad. After school, I would head to Garhi,” he says.

For Samaddar, none of these influences are complete without the constant internal churning of emotions and experiences. “The internal churning includes engagement with the source of inspiration and then creating a corresponding visual order. It is an act of permutation and combination. This creates an urge within me to paint. I enjoy the act then,” he says.