On the Open Road: A Conversation with K.S. Radhakrishnan on the occasion of his Retrospective Journey Through 50 Years of Sculptural Excellence at Centre for Contemporary Art, Bikaner House

By Gaurav Kumar

Sculptor K.S. Radhakrishnan’s first-ever inaugural retrospective, titled “On the Open Road,” is a momentous artistic pilgrimage that spans five decades of prolific creation. Hosted by Gallerie Nvyā at Centre for Contemporary Art, Bikaner House, New Delhi, Curated by renowned art historian Prof R. Siva Kumar from November 19 to December 14, 2023, has garnered widespread acclaim from both critics and the general audience. Displaying a collection of 130 sculptures dating back to 1975, the exhibition provides a comprehensive overview of Radhakrishnan’s artistic evolution. This exhibition not only showcases the iconic Musui and Maiya sculptures but also invites viewers on a profound journey through the artist’s evolution, creative exploration, and the expansive landscapes of his imagination.

The title of the retrospective, “On the Open Road,” goes beyond a literal interpretation. It not only hints at a physical journey but also emphasizes the metaphorical openness and boundless possibilities inherent in Radhakrishnan’s artistic odyssey. The sculptor, known for his profound engagement with philosophical themes, invites viewers to traverse the expansive terrain of his imagination, where every sculpture becomes a milestone on the open road of artistic expression.

At the heart of this retrospective are the iconic Musui and Maiya sculptures, masterpieces that have defined Radhakrishnan’s artistic identity. Musui, with its dynamic form and fluid lines, embodies the essence of movement and rhythm. Maiya, on the other hand, captivates with its serene and contemplative presence. These sculptures, displayed alongside each other, serve as powerful symbols of the artist’s ability to capture the spectrum of human experience—from dynamic energy to quiet introspection.

The retrospective unfolds as a chronological narrative, guiding viewers through the various phases of Radhakrishnan’s artistic evolution. From the early years marked by experimentation and discovery to the mature phase where his distinct style emerges, each sculpture tells a story of growth, introspection, and unwavering commitment to the craft. The exhibition becomes a visual autobiography, allowing viewers to witness the sculptor’s creative journey in a seamless continuum.

“On the Open Road” is not just a retrospective; it is an act of preserving and celebrating an artistic legacy. By bringing together sculptures from different periods, the exhibition ensures that Radhakrishnan’s impact on the world of art is documented and appreciated. Viewers, scholars, and art enthusiasts alike have the privilege of experiencing the profound contributions of this eminent sculptor in a single, cohesive presentation.

Popularly known as Radha, the sculptor recently shared insights in an interview with me, offering a glimpse into the inspiration and stories behind his remarkable creations. This retrospective serves as a testament to Radhakrishnan’s enduring impact on the art world and his ability to capture the essence of humanity through the language of sculpture. Let’s know his journey from the beginning….

Gaurav Kumar: What inspired you to become a sculptor, and how did your journey in sculpting begin?

K.S. Radhakrishnan: I was born into a family that had artists of different kinds. My father’s younger brother was a painter of the realistic school while my father was involved in the theatre and a very sensitive artist himself. He realized that I could draw and took me to his brother for guidance. That’s where, as a seven or eight-year-old, the whole thing opened up for me. Along with my studies, I spent a lot of time with my uncle and drew a lot. There were no sophisticated materials and I used a lot of charcoal and the household newspaper to make free-hand drawings. Later, as I became fluent in drawing and gained some kind of confidence, I started working with oils and pastels.

At 18, I was very confident that I could get admission to any art college. Armed with that confidence, I took the train to Santiniketan to become an artist, but never thought I would become a sculptor. I’d never tried sculpture before, in fact, it was usually not to be found in art curriculums that concentrated on painting. However, when I came to Santiniketan, I understood that the kind of painting being taught in classes was not the kind I wanted to practise. At the same time, I met Ramkinkar Baij and Sarbari Roy Choudhury. Ramkinkar was not a part of the faculty, but he was very much around the campus, often coming to paint or sculpt in the department. Sarbari Roy Choudhury, who was the professor for sculpting, had joined in place of Ramkinkar and was strongly associated with him. I got to observe three fantastic teachers – Ramkinkar Baij, Sarbari Roy Choudhury, and Somnath Hore – all working in the department, working on their projects. I was fortunate to come in close contact with these people when I was young.

In Kala Bhavana, for the first two years, you do an integrated course covering all subjects, before you specialise. The first time we had a sculpture class, I tried to play with hemispheres of clay by juxtaposing them at different planes and creating a female torso. (This Mother Torso is on display here in the exhibition). Working with a three-dimensional object that would occupy real space, as opposed to two-dimensional paintings, gave me a kind of a kick! Both printmaking – taking a tool in my hand and gouging out a woodcut – as well as sculpting something in clay or Plaster of Paris felt very inspiring. As if I was extending my hand and mind through the tool – and if you’re comfortable with that, it feels like you can attain anything! I enjoyed working on clay the most.

Now, all those great teachers felt that my talent was more suitable for becoming a sculptor. They encouraged me a lot which led to a closer association with them. Then there was the knowledge I was getting from my studies. All of this led me towards becoming a sculptor. By the time I had to choose my specialisation for the third year, I had fully decided that I would be a sculptor.

GK: Can you share some insights into your creative process when conceptualizing and creating a new sculpture?

KSR: I think the process of conceptualizing happens as the result of a conversation that you have with yourself and your understanding of sculpting, in totality. From the time I took to sculpting, I would try all kinds of things because I was in a kind of dialogue with what I had studied, the type of sculptures that my teachers were doing, and what was happening in other art colleges…. Also, you’re reading books, academically equipping yourself with understanding through text and pictures… you want to read Henry Moore, you want to know more about Barbara Hepworth. So there is this ongoing dialogue and experimentation. One can hardly claim to conceptualize something ‘original’. You have your inspirations, but you also get influenced by the things happening around you.

In my earliest work in Santiniketan, even when the references for my sculptures were human, they didn’t exactly look human. Since my father was in theatre and I too had some stage experience as a child, I started making stage figures but in highly abstract forms. Just the difference between the forms was suggested, creating a composition on a stage. Some of these examples are on display here. But soon I felt that these abstract sculptures were too much of a departure from their human references. To the point of not being recognizable! I felt the impulse to clear up this smoke and let a little more of the figurative emerge from these abstract forms. A four-legged creature whom I called Chatushpad emerged. It could be a dog. It didn’t have a head. But its movement was such that you could see the dog there.

So, from the beginning, the movement became a primary interest for me. The movement reflected life, static idols were not for me. In 1981, I came to Delhi with the Lalit Kala Akademi’s Garhi fellowship. I started working on things that were like enclosed forms, like the work called Family. I had got married, I had a child, and I could make that kind of family as a unit. All three members are one basic integrated form, but you can still recognise the mother, father, and child. I was very introverted at that point, and that introverted-ness itself was reflected in the sculptures of that time being kind of closed and inward, like embryos. They did not have arms and legs going outwards in space, just like an unconfident person would not be able to expressively use gestures or movements to emphasise their communication. All that was a process of becoming.

The inner life and the creative process go hand in hand. Ideas come along with all that is happening around you and within you. There is a sculpture in the show called Durga. The other day somebody asked: Why have you titled it Durga? It’s not the Durga that you worship. But while working on it, I gained some kind of energy, a new kind of strength. So I thought, the one that gives you strength is Durga. Symbolically. I titled another such sculpture Whirlwind. In a whirlwind, you are not steady, your feet don’t feel like they are on stable ground. You are caught in a storm. In the India Habitat Centre, New Delhi, there is a sculpture, with a woman seated On a Split Base. The base is not stable, it’s precarious. A split base can fall anytime, but you still have to find yourself and a kind of space for yourself. You are trying to find that kind of stability in yourself.

So you conceptualize a sculpture with the state of mind that you are in, and the situation that you are living. You are in the process of looking within yourself, and looking at the larger context and responding. Does that make sense?

GK: Yes, absolutely. How were your muse Musui and Maiya, born?

KSR: I met Musui when I was a student, probably just when I took to specialising in sculpture. Santiniketan has many villages. The university used to be an open entity without demarcated borders, flowing out into the paddy fields, canals, forests, and Santhal villages. One day, on the roadside, I came across this Santhal boy who was asking passers-by for something, maybe for food. And he had this very remarkable smile; it moved you when you looked at him. So I took him to my studio and made his portrait. Soon after, he returned having got his head shaved, with the same smile. His name was Musui. I carried his portrait when I left Santiniketan and it became a permanent fixture in my studio.

Years after that, the portrait came back knocking on my consciousness. I tried to give a body to that smiling face. That’s how I started working on a commissioned sculpture of a rickshaw with Musui pulling it. In 1997, I installed this, the largest Musui, for the first time. Then, I felt that there should be a female counterpart to, sort of, balance him. I conceived the female as a take of Musui’s head itself. She became Maiya. For a long time now, I have been working with Musui and Maiya. They have become iconic. I see Musuis and Maiyas everywhere.

GK: And how old they are?

KSR: I think they are frozen in time! He must have been 20 or 21 years old when I met him (smiling). They don’t age because they do not come from time, anyway. They are an idea, a concept. Their smiling faces are always the same; I still use the same head over all these years, from the 1970s when I first met Musui, to the late 1990s when I started this long continuous journey with them, till now. I cannot say they are growing with age. They are evolving in different kinds of ways, but not ageing.

GK: Did Musui’s and Maiya’s voyages start at Santiniketan or in Delhi?

KSR: As I said, I did my first Musui portrait as a student in Santiniketan. But Musui started regularly appearing in my sculpture, about 15 years after I came to Delhi. That was in 1997. He arrived as a rickshaw puller matching the life-sized rickshaw that he was pulling, carrying a bird as a passenger behind him. The work is installed in the Sheikh Sarai rooftop building of International Travel House.

GK: Tell me your experiences throughout the time you were at Santiniketan.

KSR: Santiniketan has already appeared in so many of my answers that you can see what a meaningful, formative time it was. It was a very open experience; we were not secluded at all. Santiniketan was so much a part of nature that you could explore yourself as a part of nature, being one with nature. And that scope Santiniketan has always given.

There was great emphasis on learning from life. Drawing straight from life, looking, understanding, learning… you had the scope to look at the world in your own way. And that scope was given and expressed by the people around us, the artists and intellectuals and teachers, the music around us, the sculptures and paintings, everything. It was a combination of many, many things that cultivated a certain kind of sensibility both as a human being and as an artist. All of it was extremely helpful in becoming an artist. And I think I also felt comfortable coming from my village in Kerala to Santiniketan; I could connect very easily.

GK: Which sculptors influenced you greatly both in Santiniketan and throughout your artistic career?

KSR: As I had mentioned above, I had early exposure to greats like Ramkinkar Baij, and Somnath Hore, and my professor and mentor Sarbari Roy Choudhury. I did a lot of portraits because Sarbari da, a very sensitive human being and versatile sculptor, had a great sensibility, especially in doing portraits. When he placed the clay, it was almost like placing flesh. It was not a process of ‘becoming’ any more.

Ramkinkar’s work had remarkable structural stability, bringing out an inherent structure that prevailed in the forms he was making. But this inherent structure would be independent of the actual subject that he was trying to recreate. When he made a dog, he would not imitate the structure of the dog. He would create his own kind of structure, which would be independent. This independent exploration of people, other figures, objects… I think that was a great lesson for all of us.

GK: Are there specific themes or messages that you aim to convey through your sculptures?

KSR: First of all, a work of art is born out of certain sensibilities. And what is that sensibility? It’s basically your understanding of life, understanding of the human, and understanding of the collective and individual problems. If you want that sensibility to be shared with other people, with your viewers, your art should emerge from it.

Being in a city you are undeniably confronted with all kinds of conflicts, all kinds of struggles, and intensified processes of human existence. The result is sculptures like the Human Box series. You are responding to what’s happening in your immediate environment. Naturally that comes into your work.

So, there’s not a specific thing to convey. It is the many, many things that appeal to you and move you, that become the reason to create and share. Sculptures or artists can only reach out to the people through art, through exhibitions. So you keep exhibiting, interacting with people, and reaching out to people. Always in a dialogue.

GK: You chose the lost-wax method for your sculptures, how does the choice of material contribute to the overall meaning of your work?

KSR: The kind of sculptures that I do, especially the air-borne figures that I create, are often balanced on the base with very minimal contact. The rest of the body – and it’s a lot of mass – is often thrown upwards in space. And this lightness can only be attained with a very strong medium like bronze. No other medium but bronze can tolerate so much weight on such a small point of contact. You cannot do it in terracotta.

Now, either I do such sculptures because I work with bronze, or I create in bronze because I make these types of figures. The truth is, it works both ways. The material and the work together allow me to explore that kind of level. You choose the medium first or the subject first. It works both ways.

GK: Can you discuss any particular challenges you’ve faced in your sculpting career and how you overcame them?

KSR: So many challenges! But it is not only technical challenges that you face, like in the making or during installation. I remember when I was installing a public sculpture in Calicut (now Kozhikode), also known as the “City of Sculptures” (Shilpa Nagaram) due to the numerous architectural sculptures placed around the city. I really want to do public sculpture, but does the public want it? It is their gathering space and I’m going to put an art object there. Is it something they are comfortable with? Am I taking their ideas also into account? Is it something they can mingle with? While I was quite convinced, executing it was not an easy task.

After installing the sculpture Time Tides/Kala Pravaham (which was done overnight to give the public a surprise) I used to go there without revealing my identity. Over time, I found that people were accepting it, taking selfies, and stopping anyone from writing on the granite stone on which Musui was seated. They have taken responsibility, it has become their sculpture. And so the challenges that I faced in the beginning were challenged by the people themselves when they made my work their own. That is very fulfilling.

GK: How do you balance tradition and innovation in your sculptural creations?

KSR: I don’t go by the traditional Western philosophy of creating anatomical structures for people. My sculptures are figurative, but not anatomically correct. I have my own way of drawing things like, say, the Amarāvati’s sculptures and their elongated parts. My kind of wiry sculptures give great scope for showing movement. The linear aspect of the human with an idealized structure lets the sculpture attain a certain plasticity, giving an autonomous structure to the whole body. That body is very important to me.

I look at and value Indian traditions. These are the kinds of things that you learn from some of the masters. Ramkinkar had copied Aurangabad’s sculptures to understand how the traditional sculptors work. However, my technique may be Western. I work with clay, I use plaster, then wax… it’s all Western. Bronze is a traditional material but that doesn’t necessarily make you a traditional artist. You can be very modern while using traditional mediums. You don’t have to work with plastic to be modern. It depends on how you handle your medium.

You can see in this exhibition many works have been made by putting together tiny human figures. These unidentified little figures are put together to make a whole different form. These ‘people’ are almost like clay for me, they become my medium. Using them, I sculpt intangible things: heat, steam, or smell. I have a certain comfort level with bronze. I think the medium also really listens to me. We are in tune with each other. Neither is dominant; neither the medium nor me. It’s a great understanding that has been established over a period of time. I take a little figure, add another to it, I can take it up to 100 figures… This interconnectedness emerges from an instinctive approach. It is a result of intuition.

GK: What role do cultural or societal influences play in shaping your artistic expression?

KSR: Society definitely plays a big role. You cannot avoid it, you are part of it. Take my Human Box series. When I shifted my studio to Chhattarpur, New Delhi, the area was not a regularized colony. Over the years, I observed people coming in – migrants from different states and rural belts, looking for jobs. I saw them all come to their little houses and make their little enclosures. It’s not just a question of survival. They were all coming here to create an identity for themselves.

I do not look at the migrant from a distance; I am one myself. I know what it is to be uprooted from a place and make a life in an adopted situation. Understanding like this impels you to bring that idea into your own art. Society plays an important role in thinking and sculpture is a result of that thought process. It’s the thought process that you develop, as a result of your understanding of the living culture around you, and then the sculpture emerges. And this process is not complete in one piece, so you do a series. There is no end to it because I can never say that it is done, it is complete. It’s an ongoing process. Till the time you are alive, you keep doing things.

If there is any sense of completeness, it is in the entire body of your work. A single work will not deliver much. That’s why a retrospective exhibition is so helpful; you understand where you were, how things evolved… This process of understanding is a way of life.

Look at this crowd (pointing at his Crowd installation), everyone is on the move. They have all been given a small ramp to take one step up. Everybody wants to reach further, or upwards to a higher level. The crowd is moving. At the same time you, the viewer, can be a participant; you are also moving in the middle of The Crowd. You now become one with the crowd. It is this very inviting, participatory kind of space that I wanted to create.

GK: How do you envision the future of sculpture as an art form, and what contributions do you hope to make to its evolution?

KSR: Years back when I came, I thought, why is sculpture taking a back seat? There were very few galleries that touched sculpture. It was always painters, painters, painters. Being a fine arts person meant you were a painter. An expanded sensibility was neither cultivated nor promoted. No gallery made any kind of effort in the beginning.

Now people are coming closer to the understanding of what it means to touch a sculpture and be touched by a sculpture. Interestingly, I think today, they all want to be doing some kind of sculpture. Whether you are a painter, whether you are a sculptor, everybody wants to establish their versatility. Many sculptors can do paintings. But for many of the painters, it has become an ambition to sculpt. I am not commenting on whether this is good or bad. But I notice this hunger for getting into sculpture.

GK: Throughout your 50-year artistic and personal journey, what changes have you observed in the art market?

KSR: When I came to Delhi in the early 1980s, there was no taker for the kind of art that I did and I found none for many years. People usually didn’t buy sculptures. Then I took to Europe. I found a very good market outside the country and sold many sculptures over there. Once you start installing outside the country, well, if somebody is clapping there, it is heard here! People here will not start applauding because they are waiting; if others are clapping then I will clap.

I cannot talk about the market for others but things have changed a lot in the last 50 years. Today I don’t have to go to other countries to sell my sculptures. There are lots of people out there wanting to possess art and sculpture. There is a very big and positive change that I see in the art market. I believe that there is tremendous hope for people who aspire to enter the field. Because those years, you know, if there were 10 art students, maybe one would be a sculpture student. But today there is an equal number of sculpture students in art colleges. They are coming to the art college with a tested market.

GK: Which contemporary sculptors or painters, aside from masters like Ramkinkar Baij, Sarbari Roy Choudhury, and Somnath Hore, are your favourites? Which five contemporary artists come to mind?

KSR: I take an interest in people who are working in different mediums. I see many artists who are doing installations. When I go abroad, I see French sculptor Christian Boltanski. I like the South African artist William Kentridge. He is one very sensible, very political artist, a tremendous person. Of course, first of all, Ramkinkar Baij and Sarbari Roy Choudhury are there. I also keep looking out for all kinds of experiments.

I believe in the sincere expression of any artist. It has to be honest. How they relate to their work of art is more important than how others do. It’s very important how they are with their art and themselves. That is the connection that I always look for.

GK: With your shows “The Crowd and Its Avatars” at the beginning of the year and “On The Open Road” at the conclusion, both curated by R. Siva Kumar, what shifts in curation and visitor response did you observe or sense between Emami Art Gallery in Kolkata and Navya Gallery in Delhi?

KSR: Emami Art Gallery has its own space. I showed The Crowd there along with many other sculptures but it was not a retrospective. Bikaner House is a bigger space with outdoor possibilities. Here, The Crowd is shown in the context of 50 years of work. This is a solid retrospective exhibition. So the approach is totally different.

This outdoor space in Bikaner House permits a very good display of The Crowd. The Crowd is on the open road, it makes less sense indoors. The people, their movement, their expressions, everything is how it was conceived when I made this sculpture in Santiniketan, out in the open. In Emami, it was displayed in an interior space, it was a little cramped. And I think these figures were all asking for more breathing space.

While space-wise the works are at their best in Delhi, Emami too had done a great job, with very good intentions. It was a very daring step for Emami to have me put up that show. And I enjoyed it very much because, after I make a sculpture in Santiniketan, I want it to be shown in Kolkata before it comes to Delhi or other cities. Santiniketan is where I have my roots – established over 50 years. And I greatly appreciate Kolkata viewers who are really keen to look at my work. I have my own audience in Kolkata. And Emami gave the scope to show the work to them. Now in Delhi, I am seeing the work in the same spirit that it is meant to be seen in. So for me, it is not showing, it is more of seeing.

GK: How has been the visitor response?

KSR: Visitors are extremely participatory, especially with The Crowd. They come, they look from a distance, they take photos. We have put up a notice encouraging viewers to touch the pieces in The Crowd if they wish.

The visitors have a lovely smile on their faces, even before they approach the actual smile of the sculpture – this is my biggest takeaway. I also find them to be perceptive or thoughtful wherever the work invites them to be so. There’s a kind of spirit that I can see, a kind of reading in progress, an understanding that the viewers are establishing with the sculptures. What is it to be figurative? What is it to connect with a human? The very aspects that I am trying to explore in all my works are what appear to touch people the most. I think that’s really, really fulfilling.

GK: So, this is the last one. What guidance would you offer to those just starting?

KSR: In today’s world, everything is digitized. Some people say for almost anything, oh yes, this can be digitally created, digitally carved. But they don’t understand. When you melt bronze it doesn’t melt digitally, you need fire for it. You have to have fire in you to take from life and give to life. Don’t try to melt anything without fire. That high temperature has to be felt from within!

And keep your eyes open to react to what’s happening around you – complexities, situations that you are all going through, positives, negatives, everything. Please be a part of it. Don’t live on a floating plane. Keep your feet on the ground. Look at the world and feel it. Then come up with your own expression and make it your own. That’s the most important thing. Excuse my raw language but I want to emphasise this point – what is being vomited elsewhere should not be brought back here. Eat your own food. And if you want to vomit it, you vomit your own food, not others’!

I mean to say that people should look at the world with their own understanding. For that, we have to freely cultivate an intellectual and emotional understanding of life. And that comes through experience – experience it before you express it. Everybody wants to express themselves today without going through the experience. That makes it so disconnected. Please connect yourself with your own expression. Once you connect with your expression and the experience, the work of art will come alive. Please don’t go for any shortcuts.

GK: Thank you so much sir, for your time and the opportunity to speak with you today.

Engaging in dialogue with the renowned sculptor K.S. Radhakrishnan is a profound honour and privilege, providing a unique insight into the artistic journey. The exchange of ideas becomes a cherished opportunity to delve into the creative mind behind the masterpieces. Grateful for the privilege of conversing with such a distinguished figure in the world of sculpture.

K.S. Radhakrishnan’s retrospective, “On the Open Road,” is a testament to the enduring power of artistic expression. As viewers embark on this journey through five decades of sculptural excellence, they are not only treated to the visual richness of the artist’s creations but also invited to contemplate the deeper meanings embedded in each sculpture. This exhibition marks a milestone in Radhakrishnan’s career, offering a panoramic view of his artistic legacy and reaffirming the timeless relevance of his contributions to the world of sculpture. In continuation of “On the Open Road,” At Kasturbhai Lalbhai Museum in Ahmedabad, the second iteration of KS Radhakrishnan’s retrospective “On the Open Road,” which features 50 years of his work, is presently on display. The exhibition, which runs until February 20th, features numerous significant pieces from his extensive body of work.

Read More>> Please Subscribe our Physical Magazine