SPOTLIGHT ON: ALOK JOHRI

Life's Still Yet Most Precious Moments

Artist Alok Johri (left) with the show curator Jaiveer Johal (centre) and Tunty Chauhan of Gallery Threshold

Some of my earliest memories of beautiful paintings — that I found beautiful as a child — were still-lifes. Of course, I didn’t know then that they were called ‘still-lifes’. Those were images of la vie quotidienne — images of everyday life that inspire us to see beauty in every little, seemingly inconsequential thing around us. Europeans, who popularised it, found that beauty most popularly in things and objects on a dining table. It began as a distinct genre in its own class in the Netherlands in the 16^th-17^th centuries, but some of the most fabulous examples were created all over the European continent, by artists such as Caravaggio, Jan Brueghel the Elder, Rembrandt, Vermeer, to name a few. Closer to our times, Vincent van Gogh and Pablo Picasso are other names whose still-lifes we are all very familiar with.

It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that almost every artist, at some point in their career, tries still-life. Modern Indian masters have done that, with the most striking example, in my opinion, remains those by F. N. Souza and Jyoti Bhatt, to quote only two examples.

Over the centuries, the genre has also come to signify more than just an aesthetic depiction of ‘still life’, a fact that was recently reinforced when I visited the exhibition ‘Still Form’, a solo show of the works of Alok Johri at Threshold Art Gallery, at Sarvodaya Enclave in New Delhi. It is curated by Jaiveer Johal.

                                                    '...Over Tea' by Alok Johri

The most striking thing about Johri’s still-lifes is that they are redolent with emotion; so much so that one knows in an instant that each of those still-lifes carries some story behind it. It is very apparent that Johri’s canvases are not just an aesthetic depiction of what he sees beautiful around him, which, however, remains a primary reason for him to train his lens on any collection of objects; but there’s more to it.

The large diptych, …Over Tea, that greets the viewer upon entering the gallery is striking as evidently there is a story waiting to be told. There is something about the way the ruffled edge of the tablecloth, an open book with a pair of spectacles on it, a toppled cup and saucer… “It’s my way of remembering my father and my mother. The work shows a 20^th Century Chamber’s Dictionary, and below that, the last book that my mother read,” says Goa-based Johri. The artist, who grew up in Kanpur, studied applied arts at Lucknow University after switching from fine arts whose entrance test he had topped, upon the advice of his HoD, the renowned artist B. N. Arya. He went on to work in advertising, achieving great success, before going solo to travel the country with his camera.

It's hard to believe that he didn’t train as a painter because the works on display exude depth and gravity of skills honed over years. “I was good at the arts — doodling, drawing, painting — since childhood, and I remember that when I was 8-9 years old, my mother asked me what would I want to be when I grew up, I remember replying that I wanted to be an artist,” shares Johri.

One of a set of 4 works by Alok Johri, titled 'Inheritance'

Just as …Over Tea captivates with its stark bareness and an overbearing sense of an active snippet of life frozen in time, his other works, including the small ones measuring 10 x 10 in., or 17 x 17 in., or 24 x 24 in., draw in the eye with their zoomed in details of daily life. A Short Nap, Man with his thoughts, Mocha, Afternoon, Siesta… and many more lay bare the most common of our moments on the earth with the uncommon vision of a painter. A Short Nap, for instance, focuses on a head turned the other way with the arm of the subject wrapped around it so as to shield it from day light when someone tries to take a quick nap in the middle of some work. Similarly, Every Morning shows the corner of a table covered with a tablecloth and the back rest of a chair pulled out just a bit as if someone has just gotten up and left the table. It’s a powerful snapshot of a morning which shows the pithy observation of the painter.

There’s a lot of references to reading in the paintings, which inadvertently alludes to the artist’s growing up years in an academic household; both his parents were teachers. During a very enriching conversation, the artist reveals that placing objects associated with his parents in the paintings has also helped him reconcile with the difficult relationship he had with his family. “My father left us in December 1987 as he took sanyas. We never saw him again. Years later, when my mother was shifting from Lucknow to Goa with me, I opened an old trunk of academic books and found my father’s dictionary. My mother was a voracious reader. So, books find a place in my works,” shares Johri.

While a few of Johri’s paintings took birth in the recesses of memory in his mind, …Over Tea is the one that gave him closure over several conflicts he had harboured in his head over the years with respect to his parents. “With this, I resolved everything with my parents,” he shares at the end of a long, moving story on his growing up years, which includes a vital landmark — the disappearance of his father from their lives.

It is this profound experience that has, perhaps, helped Johri translate the minutiae of life on to his canvases, including those that are precious lived moments of all human life, and not just Johri’s, such as Dragon Fruit, Red Banana, Loofah, and Whisper, among others. 

The exhibition, on view through October 12, is a delight because Johri’s paintings start speaking of their stories, of the still moments that they capture, which are not necessarily the artist’s, but resonate with the common lives of all of us. 

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