Jyoti Bhatt is a prolific artist, says curator Rekha Rodwittiya, curator of the retrospective on the painter. “The idea behind it was to witness the sheer breadth of an artist who has not only developed a fluency in printmaking, but whose practice embodies many aspects of his identity,” she says.
‘Jyoti Bhatt: Through the Line and the Lens’ presented by LATITUDE 28, reflects the deep imprint Bhatt has left on Indian art over the decades. Featuring his prints, photographs, and personal writings, the show, drawn from the collection of Bhavna Kakar, director of the gallery, offers a close look at his evolving visual language.
Born in 1934, Bhatt is celebrated for his work in painting, printmaking, and his photographic documentation of rural Indian culture. A founding member of the Baroda School of Indian Art, Bhatt emerged as an alternative voice to Santiniketan and the Bengal School, part of a new post-Independence art movement. For both Rodwittiya and Kakar, who share the Baroda lineage with Bhatt, the retrospective is a homage.
Rodwittiya describes the show as an exploration of Bhatt’s “linguistic choices”, shaped by formal training and a conscious crafting of both visual and textual language.
Printmaking journey
In an era when painting and sculpture dominated the post-Independence art scene, Bhatt turned to printmaking—not just for its aesthetic qualities, but its accessibility. “When I began at M.S. University, printmaking was not a major discipline,” Bhatt, now 91, recalls. His interest deepened during a stint at the Accademia di Belle Arti in Naples (1961), and further at Pratt Institute, New York (1964–66).
“I see printmaking—especially editions and multiples—as a profoundly democratic tool,” he says. “Each print carries the artist’s deliberate engagement, yet it’s often undervalued due to entrenched hierarchies in art.”
Bhatt’s technical range—intaglio, serigraphy, lithography—is matched by a symbolic vocabulary rooted in folk traditions. Tribal and folk motifs, birds, flowers, and mythic figures frequent his works. Bhatt effortlessly drew nature into many of his etchings through depictions of birds like parrots, peacocks, woodpeckers, and bulbuls, along with floral motifs such as lotuses. In ‘Sitana Popat’ (1960), a woman and a parrot are rendered in earthy tones, while ‘Mayoori’ (2001) is more expansive, juxtaposing birds, a swastika, feet, flora, and a woman’s portrait in a collage-like visual.
Bhatt’s works are not only grounded in tradition and folk symbols but also in language and wit, often overlooked. “People focus on one aspect of his printmaking or photography, missing how deeply intertwined it all is with his politics, wit, and humanism,' says Kakar.
Bhatt sees language as a powerful tool for conveying political and social ideas. He often embedded text—lines of poetry, sharp commentary—into his prints. “My use of text is never incidental—it’s a purposeful intervention,” he says. “When I use text in my prints, I see it as a way of engaging directly with the viewer, offering a clear, unambiguous statement.”
In ‘Caged Bird’ (1961), a parrot appears poised to escape its confines. Above it, a line reads: “Udja re panchhi ke ab ye besh hua begaana” (“Fly away, O bird, you no longer belong here”), adding a layer of commentary on alienation and entrapment.
Photography as presence
The retrospective also highlights Bhatt’s photography—quiet, patient images taken across Gujarat, Andhra Pradesh, and Tamil Nadu. He began with documentation of his own work which later evolved into a visual archive of India’s rural and tribal arts.
His photographs feel less like documentation and more like shared moments. Unlike the voyeuristic gaze common to ethnographic photography, Bhatt’s lens feels lived-in and respectful. “You can feel he belongs there. He doesn’t observe from a distance—he’s part of the moment,” says Rodwittiya. Bhatt’s deep connection with his subjects is unmistakable; his lens is never intrusive. “For me, it has always been important to blend into the environment and respect the people I am photographing,” Bhatt explains.
His photographs are not just records—they are acts of memory, preserving visual traditions before they vanish under the pressures of modernity. “He intends to hold it as a memory,” Rodwittiya says. “To ensure that at least the memory of it is not relinquished in the factor of progress and change.”
Bhatt began his artistic journey in the ’60s, two decades after independence, when India’s cultural identity was still in flux. He has lived through waves of change—from the evolution of art in pre-independence India to the rise of modernism and today’s digital era. Each period, he says, has shaped his vocabulary. “I hope that my work will stand the test of time,” he says. “If any part of my practice continues to be explored, I believe it will be in how it renews itself with each viewer.”
On view till April 21 at Bikaner House, Pandara Road (11 am to 7 pm) and till May 25 at Latitude 28, Lado Sarai (11 am to 7 am, from Monday to Saturday)