Veteran artist Rini Dhumal explains why, at 70, awards seem frivolous

In an era where super specialisation has become the norm, veteran artist Rini Dhumal's artworks continue to create a sense of wonder as her inspiration takes different forms through diverse mediums. Back with a third coffee table book, Parallel Wings and an upcoming eponymous exhibition, 70-year-old Dhumal speaks to Pooja Bhula about how she manages this feat. Edited excerpts:

What's the story behind Parallel Wings?

It's a sort of connotation for my multidimensional artwork. Thanks to my tutelage under artists KG Subramanyan, Krishna Reddy, Somnath Hore during my days at Santiniketan and later MS University, Vadodara, as well as all the travelling and interactions with artists, my work takes different expressions. It also draws from my personal life, I was born in East Bengal, got married to a Maharashtrian and sketched in Vadodara. Yet my works are parallel to one another.

Have you attempted any new techniques or imagery this time?

No. I don't want to try anything new. At this age, one tries to negate (declutter) things and just focus on a few essentials. So my work is more meditative than before… I need my own peace.

You're also known for printmaking. Will we see any prints in the upcoming exhibition?

No. I've realised I'm more of a painter, a colourist; my prints are not very different from the paintings. But you'll see stoneware, sculptures, and drawings and paintings on rugs, tapestry and silk.

Have you been working on the collection for long?

There are about 60 pieces... it's taken me two-and-a-half years. There was the catalogue to do as well.

And how do you manage to dabble in so many forms?

One has to extend oneself to other things. For me, life is (about) experimentation. One has to be able to live to say something, make a statement. Few artists today can handle so many techniques in such a way, but Santiniketan exposed me to very good teachers like Ramkinkar Baij. You need that kind of facility for working with your hands. I do everything myself. I don't use digital tools at all, so there's a certain language, touch and flow. I like to feel and build the textures.

You've had a variety of influences and experiences. How would you say that has evolved your themes?

All of them make the same kind of statement — one's own ethos, philosophy and style one develops as an artist. The woman in various forms — baby, ordinary woman and loved one — has remained the core inspiration almost all through, except for a brief period, while I was in Paris, where the works of everyone around were more abstract.

Do you have any favourites from this collection?

It's the sculpture in green — it's everything woman — tall, standing high. It's made of bronze.

Is it tough to part with your creations?

More than me, it's my husband and daughter (who find it difficult to do that). But all artists feel sad when their work is sold, especially ones they really like — it's got all your energy.

Then again, it's also what makes you happy, right?

At this age, the money doesn't matter. But those who buy my paintings also don't like to sell it. My work doesn't auction. People want to keep it in their homes.

You've won many awards and scholarships. What do you consider the highlight of your career?

The most joyous times were spent as an artist in residence in Santiniketan and then in Vadodara. Today, all schools are the same, but at that time, the teachers were very dynamic. At this age, though, all this (awards, etc.) is very frivolous — all that matters is your work and to be happy. You don't want to be pushy to do things or want too much publicity. If it happens, it's welcome. But I just want to do my best. At 70, that itself is quite a thing.

(Parallel Wings will open on November 12 at Tao Art Gallery, Mumbai)