In the Studio of Memory: A Tribute to the Court Artists of Travancore
This write-up is based on an interview (2006) with my Periyappan, late Sri Thankaswamy Achari, artist (my mother's elder sister's husband), who, through recollections of his association with old school artists, had inspired me to research on the court painters of Travancore.
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| Artist Manacaud K. Ramakrishnan Achari, portrait painted by his son R. Haridas (1969). Private Collection. |
A small boy of hardly ten years once lost his way in the meandering corridors of a vast palace complex. It was his first visit to the town and the Valiya Kottaram in the Fort, Thiruvananthapuram, and as he walked from one room to another, he felt guilty for not listening to his grandfather.
His grandfather, a humble caretaker of the Maharaja’s ‘Golden Chariot’, had asked him to remain in the old Radhapura (the chariot house). However, the young boy’s innate curiosity got the better of him and he quickly slipped out of his grandfather's sight. He peeked into one of the rooms in a nearby building; the room resembled a dark tunnel with a rectangular pocket of light on the other side. He walked towards the light. One room led to another, and finally, after he had tried in vain to return to his grandfather, the young lad entered a room that was, like the others, dark.
Standing in the dark, he scrutinised the surroundings. When his eyes got accustomed to the darkness, he noticed the shadowy images on the walls. Now what? He cursed himself for straying away from his grandfather. He felt an urge to run, to escape from the clutches of the apparitions in the room. At one end of the room was diffused light coming from an unknown space. He jumped across the high thresholds, racing towards the comforting light. A well-lit room was now visible. When the fearful thoughts loosened its clutches, he could make out the image of a man, dressed in white, seated before a strange ‘equipment’. The boy’s heart was pounding, and he was sweating profusely as he approached the room. Surprisingly, the ‘man in white’ had not noticed his presence; he was busy leaning over a table cluttered with glass bottles and several brushes.
The boy noticed that a few brushes had fallen off the table and were lying scattered on the floor. Now it became clear that the strange three-legged ‘equipment’ was an easel, and on it was a picture, painted in glowing colours. The little boy stood behind the door, silently observing the actions of the 'man in white’. Suddenly, he felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder; a cold shiver went down his spine. He was sure that it was the ghostly apparitions that caught him. However, as he turned around, he saw the smiling face of his grandfather! “Now you don’t pester him with your mischief,” his grandfather said. It was only then did the 'man in the white’ notice the unexpected visitors at his door. "Ah, Kesavan, so you finally made it to my studio!” he said. “And who is this boy? Is he your grandson?” he asked. Kesavan pushed the little boy to the front. “Yes, he is my grandson. Sorry if he disturbed you.” The little boy who braved the dark corridors was now shy to face his grandfather’s friend. “Come here, my boy,” the man in white said. “He was exploring the palace on his own,” Kesavan said. Reluctantly, the boy looked at the man’s face. He was smiling. “So, did you see the paintings by Raja Ravi Varma? If you haven’t, let me show you around.” Without another word, the ‘man in white’ caught hold of his hand and walked towards the dark rooms.
The dark rooms were not the same anymore. The ghostly apparitions, which the boy saw clearly, were images of people adorned in state robes and beautiful ornaments. The boy had never in his life seen such beautiful pictures! In the other rooms, he came across several fascinating artefacts. Little did he realise then that he was in an art gallery!
The ‘man in white’, after he had shown around the place, walked with his visitors to the nearby Radhapura. “My grandson has an aptitude for drawing. It will be a blessing for him if he can learn drawing under your instruction,” Kesavan said. By this time, the boy had gathered that his grandfather’s friend was an artist and that he was employed at the royal art gallery. “Why not? He can come to my home whenever he wishes to,” he said. Before they left, Kesavan directed his grandson to get the artist's blessing. The boy touched the artist’s feet. “My blessings will always be with you,” the boy heard these words ringing in his ears.
It was many years later that I had the fortune to sit beside Thankaswamy Achari - the ‘little boy’- who was then in his early sixties, and record a detailed narration of his first encounter with his master. The setting for the first meeting was also spectacular; the art gallery the boy had unknowingly entered was the famed Ranga Vilas Art Gallery, maintained by the Travancore royals. The ‘man in white’–Manacaud K. Ramakrishnan Achari - the boy later came to know was one of the most respected artists in the erstwhile Travancore Princely State.
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| Artist Thankaswamy Achari |
Note:
Thankaswamy Achari (d. 2006) was my mother’s elder sister’s husband. His guru, Manacaud K. Ramakrishnan Achari, was my paternal great-grandfather.
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A portrait (oil on canvas) by Thankaswamy Achari. |
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| A group portrait (oil on canvas) by Thankaswamy Achari. |
