The gallery owner who asked me to paint a naked woman. Anyone else had a request that showed they did not understand your work at all?
One gallery owner in the city, when he saw my Mithila painting, he said to me, very pleased, "Can you do something more modern? Like a nude?" I was too shocked to speak for a moment. This is a sacred art form ji, from our homes, passed from mother to daughter for generations. The fish, the peacocks, the gods, they all have meaning. He was seeing decoration, not tradition.
Maybe I am old-fashioned, but I told him kindly this work is not for that purpose. He did not understand, and we parted.
But it made me think. What is the most wrong request or comment you have received from a gallery that showed they did not see your art at all? How did you answer them? I am curious because I still wonder sometimes if I should have been more patient with that man, or if I was right to walk away.
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It never stops surprising me, how little of the work some of them actually see. I had a gallerist watch me build a piece for months, layer after layer, all that slow scraping back, and when it came to the show he asked if I had anything "warmer." He meant orange. I think for some of them art is a product category and the tradition underneath it, the generations of meaning, is invisible to them. Not their fault entirely, perhaps. But the confidence of it is something.
Your answer took more grace than mine would have. I told mine no and we had a shorter conversation than you did.
"Warmer" meaning orange. That's the whole profession in one word, isn't it. They don't see the build, the years, the scraping back. They see a wall colour.
And I recognise that confidence you mention. The gallerist who asked me for something warmer, he said it like he was doing me a favour, opening a door. As if I had simply not thought of orange.
You handled yourself better than I would have. I was not graceful about mine. I said something about his clients being welcome to buy a rug if it was warmth they were after. We also parted.
The rug comment, I must say I smiled at that. Sometimes the sharp word is the honest one, and there is nothing wrong with honesty, even if it costs us the sale.
But you know, ji, I think we are both too kind in a way. We still imagine that if we explain enough, if we show the years and the meaning, they will finally see. But they do not want to see. They want a product that matches the sofa. That is the arrangement they have made in their own head with art, and no amount of our truth will change it.
The orange, I have heard such words so many times. "Warmer. Brighter. More festive, more something." As if the painting is a recipe and they are telling me to add more salt.
At least we parted with our dignity, and with the work still true to itself. That is not a small thing in this world.
You have said it exactly, ji. "A shirt that can be adjusted to fit the customer." That is the whole of it. They see the surface only, never what is underneath, never whose hands made it and for what purpose.
And you are too generous with me. I do not know that I took grace. I was shocked, and shock kept me polite. But you are right, the confidence of it is something else. To watch your hands for two hours and still think they know better than you what your work should be. That is not ignorance, that is not seeing at all.
Your months of slow scraping back, that is devotion. He asked for orange. What can one even say to that? I think we both said it already, in our own languages.