CHENNAI: C Dakshinamurthy, the artist whose journey began from a tryst with a local potter’s wheel to emerge as a master known for his distinctive style in painting, sculpting and print-making, died in Chennai on Friday. He was 74. He is survived by a son and daughter.
Along with the late K M Adimoolam, one of his closest friends, who is considered as the face of Tamil modernity, Dakshinamurthy was instrumental in the Madras Art Movement of the early 60s that reshaped South Indian art.
“When he started off, Dakshinamurthy was known more as a painter. He then began experimenting with ceramic and stone,” recalled G Chandru, a former principal of the College of Fine Arts, Chennai, where Dakshinamurthy studied and continued to teach until his death.
Those who knew the man knew him as a man of few words, many friends and even more accomplishments. His unique style that brought together elements of visual aesthetics from African sculptures and the figures of Ayyanar, the popular deity in the rural heartland of Tamil Nadu, captured the attention of aficionados of art world over.
Dakshinamurthy’s art found pride of place in exhibitions held around the world, including Europe and the Americas, and across the country, and he was bestowed with recognitions including national awards over the decades.
His inspiration, said A Viswam, artist and a close associate for over three decades, came from watching people and their emotions. His own emotions, however, were carefully concealed from his art. “His emotions would manifest themselves only in the distortion style he used in many of his works,” Chandru pointed out.
Distortion, which is used in art as an expressive technique, is where the artist deviates from the general characteristics of natural forms.
Despite keeping his emotions away from his art, the warmth never failed to shine through in his work, said fellow artists, helping it gain global recognition.
There are many among the artists fraternity who believe that Dakshinamurthy’s art was ‘unquestionably cubist’ — a style of art pioneered by Picasso, which replaces natural forms with their geometric equivalents. But this is something that Chandru vehemently denied. “The difference between cubism and the style he used is as different as X-rays and photographs,” he said.
When at work, he was so engrossed that sometimes he inadvertently dipped his paintbrush into his tea cup when he was riveted in his work, wrote Vidhya Gnana Gouresan, founder of Gnani Arts, for the Singapore Art and Gallery Guide. That oneness that he felt with the art was all encompassing — his students once quipped that birds flew every morning only after they listened to the rustic melody of his diamond-edged chisel against the stone, said K Natarajan, one of Dakshinamurthy’s students.
“He would come to college at least by 7 in the morning and work away throughout the day,” he said.
While celebrated for his work, for his students, Dakshinamurthy’s art is only a reminder of the artist himself — a man who was always more than an artist and a teacher whose tools and materials were always theirs to use.
“He cannot see a student sad. On numerous occasions, he had offered both financial and emotional support to students, driving them to reach their potential,” said Natarajan.
Dakshinamurthy’s four-foot sculpture of the female form will be on display at the Singapore Art Gallery in the near future, said Viswam.