UNDEFEATED
By Saikat Baksi
‘How did the exam go?’ The young man asked his little daughter.
‘Oh! it was great fun!’ Replied the kid.
Her father was curious. ‘What do you mean by fun? Did you solve all the problems in the math question paper?’
The little girl laughed away, ‘I did some of them. But it was fun.’
‘Show me the question paper.’ Her father was getting an inkling about the meaning of fun.
‘Here it is. Look. This was a good paper. Lot of blank space. I painted five noses, two eyes and three ears. See, that blunt nose is that of the class teacher.’ She giggled.
Her father stared at the question paper wondering how to react. He did not know if he was to be happy or sad. His baby girl had a lot of fun because the maths question paper had plenty of blank space to do sketches! As usual!
He considered the options for a while and then said, ‘Okay. Well done! Let us go to my drawing classes. But when the elders are drawing, do not show them around their mistakes. Okay?’
His little girl grinned again in mischief and nodded her head vigorously.
That was Mansi and her dad.
Mansi’s father was an art teacher and a photographer. He saw the true spirit in his baby girl. His circle of friends and colleagues too did not miss the spark in her. After completion of exams of 12th standard, the family came to a crossroad. The convention of a middle-class Maharashtrian family demanded an early marriage and easy settlement in life. Ambitions were no safe territory. But Mansi loved exception. She wanted to study art. A compromise was reached. Art teacher diploma. Postponement of the ritual by two more years.
She went ahead but as soon as she completed the course, the marriage mission returned in full force. Mansi geared up for a tough resistance this time. A prolonged tussle with her elders. It began with fasting. But to her surprise, just after skipping one dinner, her father sat before her and asked, ‘So, what do you want? Study more art and marry later?’
She nodded. Her father smiled, ‘Granted!’
Mansi entered art college. Her passion was figurative painting. The eyes, noses and ears of the early years must add up to a complete human body throbbing in pulse of life. But soon, she realized that the figurative studies done by her were not really heading anywhere. Somehow, the head belonged to someone and legs belonged to another. But when she came across similar works by students at art colleges from Mumbai, she found that the harmony was striking.
Why?
She could not compromise on her skill. She must find the root cause.
And the revelation flashed one day when the old, withered marble statue of a nude human body was again presented to the students to do figurative study! Mansi realized right away that she needed a live model. The battered age-old sculpture was not enough. Colleges from Pune and Nashik, being conservative, did not permit any live nude models in the campus. But in Mumbai, nude study did not raise any eyebrows. After all, Leonardo or Michelangelo dissected dead bodies in the morgue in secrecy to understand what lay beneath the skin. That is how they could attain such extremity of realism. How could an artist of this day get by the lessons just by looking at a stone sculpture?
But then what was the way? Getting a model itself was difficult and expensive. The task of a model was very demanding. Seating or standing still for hours is no easy. Often models collapsed under extreme duress in the middle of the session. Besides, even if she managed to get one, what might be the venue?
She could not bring the man or woman to her home to pose for her. It would spell scandal. Neither could she take the model to a hotel for study. It could result in even worst consequences. But this challenge was not enough to dissuade Mansi from finding a model.
Convention never appealed her anyway. She knew that creativity lived out of the box, not inside. So, one fine day, she struck the golden idea. Eureka!
The idea solved the entire problem, but it came with its own dangers. And she knew the pitfalls very well. The warrior in Mansi resolved to fight the odds out. Protocols and conservatism were not enough to block her way.
SHE DECIDED TO BE HER OWN MODEL!
Since that day, she shuts the door of her room and seats before the mirror and paints herself on the canvas or paper.
Indeed, her nude figurative sketches appear mysteriously beautiful. Perhaps Mansi is exploring her own mystery through the scratches of charcoal. Her paintings attracted enough of critical acclaims. The art market too responded well to her figurative studies. Awards came plenty. Connoisseurs observe that in her paintings, nudity does not stand out, but the subject matter speaks volume.
But that is not all.
Breaking the convention has a price. People often say that Mansi Sagar is playing stunt. She is deliberately making her paintings sensational by projecting herself on the canvas. At times, she is accepted in exhibitions as an artist but is warned that she could display images only without nudity.
Mansi does not mind the rebuffs.
Her only concern is about her dad. He is proud of Mansi but worries a lot.
No. Not embarrassment.
‘How much hurdle will the girl overcome in life?’ worries her dad.
Mansi takes a deep breathe. ‘I have a long way to go…’
Note - To know more about Mansi's works, please visit http://www.mansisagar.com