Sarandeep Grover

2012-02-06T15:52:00.001+05:30

2012. I begin thee with an exhibit of my works and select Merchandise for sale :)

Feb 8th 2012.
Olive at the Qutab.
9 pm onwards :)

The progress of a Mural

2012-02-01T20:56:00.001+05:30

From the many walls that I have been painting in Office spaces. Here is one of them. Final version to be uploaded soon :)

Pseudoism?

2012-01-13T00:59:00.001+05:30

I have always had this keen interest in painting Gods and Goddesses. In my first exhibition- an image of Kali was made that looked quite similar to the one displayed here. The owner of the artwork recently told me that the same, when seen by a few priests was rejected immediately. Reason- The Goddess is not wearing any clothes!!!!

Ancient art works have always shown nudity, sex and gory representations of Gods and Goddesses. Today, when sex is in deodorants, and condoms are sold to family audiences- there seems to be a greater threat to a creative mind- to speak or paint what he feels like. Yes, one may use nudity for publicity- but its given such criminal proportions as if the artist has done something that has never ever been done.

Is the artist pervert or the likes of saffron brigade?

If the latter, what gave them this power?

Sneak Peak.

2012-01-06T11:54:00.001+05:30

Murals have kept me busy for the last 15 days. Will be uploading the finished works soon :)

2012 says hello!

2012-01-02T04:42:00.001+05:30

I have seen a little more money than I have been used to. The fact that I dont get uncomfortable at the prices of branded clothes- I have started aiming higher. Now, its luxury brands that seduce me.

I want heads to turn. I want people to get jealous of my wardrobe, and the price I would have got it for.

The research for an SUV is on. The uber coolest, most macho looking, awe inspiring EXPENSIVE SUV around. My tastes are defined, so is the fact that at this point of time all that I can buy is- maybe a set of tyres for the vehicle I would want.

Sad. Sad, sad.

I have been taken over by materialism. I want to lose myself into an ocean of brands so that the me is not visible. I want to be remembered not as me, I want to be remembered by the limited edition I possess.

Oh angel of consumerism- are you listening?

I dont want to lose myself to any of this anymore.

Contemplation

2011-12-22T02:09:00.000+05:30

Been more than a year that I have been to this blog. Feels like eternity.

Do I start blogging again?

Sadbhavna Sthal, Vrundavan

2010-04-21T23:34:00.012+05:30

Guild of Service, an NGO based in New Delhi for the empowerment of women contacted me for creative inputs for a multi-faith temple in their old age home called Amar Badi- Maa Dham.

A Religious place- that caters to 8 faiths. What else could I ask for.

Octagonal Structure. Eight Faiths. Me- Painting it!

This is how the temple looked in the beginning. Now, the task at hand is something like this- Eight faiths that are : Baha'i, Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Jainism, Sikhism, Zoroastrianism.

Find some imagery that makes the place look good and does not alter the sanctity.

The challenge- All pillars will have scriptures from each religion.

Brainstorming, hitting a few dead ends of thought and then finally a few drafts later- Tree of life seems to be the only appropriate visual that we decide upon. (We standing for Sarandeep Grover, the brains behind him, Himani and yes, Guild for Service for the final approval.)

Then begins the first stage of airbrushing the walls with some last minute edits in the construction.

Work in Progress......

Post the inside was painted. Scriptures from all the faiths had to posted on the walls. I chose to get stencils ready for the same....

Stenciling turned out to be way more time demanding than I had expected.

The interiors has the scriptures, outside each pillar are the translations.

And that's the Dome :)

The Religious heads inaugurating Sadhbhavna Sthal.

The Governor of Uttar Pradesh, Hon'ble Shri B.L. Joshi- Chief Guest of the event.

You could read more about Sadbhavna Sthal at the UN website.

2010 begins

2010-04-18T14:20:00.006+05:30

Tandava.

Acrylics on Canvas by Sarandeep Grover.

The Journey since 2004.

2009-11-25T12:44:00.012+05:30

The above paintings are from the year 2004, they are a part of my first exhibition that took place in Ahmedabad.

Then slowly horses started to show up. A lot of people call it Hussain inspired, but I guess the roots were laid at CEPT- watching Piraji Sagara paint a lot of horses.

2006 is when I started playing with my strokes and having a better understanding of acrylics as a medium.

From horses to spirituality was the major theme in the year 2007.

2008 was a phase of uncertainity. The only painting I did this year was a few commisions.

The ones above are all in this year. 2009 still has a month left- let's see what it has in store!

Life is in details

2009-11-17T13:10:00.005+05:30

Its November again.

This time of the year I always start wrapping up the yearly planner that sits on my table. Its always nice to look at how the year been. The targets that were picked up and the to- do lists that were made- what exactly has happened to the plans!

One of the key learnings for this year is- abstraction is meant for the canvas and not the plans of life.

I know- this is the thing that I have read all over and attended seminars in. It took me some time to put all of it in a personal koan- Don't be Vague!

It never helps :)

Define O mortal

2009-11-02T13:47:00.001+05:30

As I introduced myself to a middle aged, seemingly successful businessman to kill time, the question took shape again. This man, whom I had just met sometime ago because we happened to be travelling together, made me regret that I had smiled and said hello. I should have never let the book go back in the bag. Shit!

What sort of paintings do you make?

This was the second time. He wants to drill me on this one. Okay, lets face it.

Me: What sort of paintings, as in....?

Him: Do you make landscapes or portraits?

This is the point the where I wish I can turn invisible. What happened this time was what happens most of the times. I blurt a few words, followed by a few questions and a bit more of blabbering from me till the audience I have starts talking of a particular artist they either know or, some rich relative having bought a few paintings. Useless clatter.

What can I explain about my art when I don't know how to classify it myself. Cubism has inspired me the way sculpture has. A lot of people simply start looking for the closest association a painting can have to a period, style or artist and immediately call the painter either inspired from or, a follower of the same. If that is the case, I am a multi layered, multi dimensional residue of the generations of art the world has seen.

Most of my paintings can never be directly linked to a certain genre or style. The watercolors that I apply are not the same as taught in most of the art schools. The same applies for acrylics and even drawing figures. I have been branded a stunt man by few and naive by others.

My efforts simply are in painting, keeping alive the love for my profession- always. As far as styling of art is concerned, I would love to throw at them a few super complicated terms to define the undefinable.

Any ideas?

As of now...

2009-10-27T15:15:00.004+05:30

The open skies call

I hold firmly to my chains

Reasons and more of them

Parading with the Bulls!

2008-12-28T20:27:00.000+05:30

There is one dimension to this artist that provides a sort of meditative inputs to the grey cells- riding my Bullet!

Usually, I prefer to just be with my bike. Enjoying the experience with the signature thump of the Bullet matching the pace of my thoughts. The ride is like a chant, focusing on the road with a void that builds along with the speed, slowly u exist no more- its just the journey and the thump of the engine.

I usually looked at team trips as something that were more to satiate the ego than to enjoy the ride. Now, I have a different opinion.

"Bulls on Parade", a bullet gang in Gurgaon invited me for a small bike trip to the Aravalis with them. I happen to know Nishant, or Che as he likes to be called. So, I joined them for a simple reason of a Bike Ride.

Talk of Bullets, and usually one meets a ego-centric dude who thinks that He is the King of the Road while the rest of the public is nothing but goons. People discuss the speed they travel in and all the stuff that compliments a super-macho image. Bones, booze and heavy rock!

I was pleasantly surprised to find people riding simply for the love of riding a Bullet. Another highlight was the way no one forces you to travel in a certain way that is supposed to be a group philosophy. The rules were pretty simple- Follow ur own pace, stay as a team and most important- enjoy the ride! (which I definitely did)

All the riders with their machines

That's Negi- a member of the group who is getting relocated to Bangalore. The team dedicated this trip to him, calling it the "Farewell to Negi trip". That just reflects the warmth for each member of the team I guess!

This is where we all chose to get framed!

From Delhi to Pune.

2008-12-24T14:49:00.001+05:30

Pune heard the Aawaz of Street Art this December.

There shall be another post on how and what happened.

Thanks to the Joshi family for their support.

Aawaz-From painting public walls to painting backyards

2008-12-09T01:50:00.001+05:30

This weekend, the activity shifted to Greenwoods City, Gurgaon.

Around 15 kids, 3 hours and Sarandeep Grover gave way to a transformed backyard- That's the magic of Street Art. Take it to your backyard and the space transforms from a place that is hardly used to a place to throw parties!

Thanks to Mrs. and Mr. Jain for giving us this opportunity to paint their walls.

Rants on gregarious and loving humans.

2008-12-02T00:19:00.001+05:30

Mumbai Terrorist Attacks have happened, leaving behind a spirit of patriotism that is like a bubble in the air. Ready to burst any moment.

Look at all the social sites that talk of wearing white to work, lighting candles at a specific time or day. Think again.

Does any of these pseudo activities make us any more a clearing for love when we still look at the passerby on the street as another human, another country as them. Are we any different from the humans in any other part of the world? There are so many Floyd lovers who listen to us and them but so we really get into the essence? (lyrics here)

Lets just keep on hating terrorists, loving the film stars and continue reading scriptures coz somewhere we love doing that.

Lets just blindly follow what others say will be uber kewl.

I shall end this with a koan for the ponderers to chew on:

Do we really know our ass from a hole in the ground?

Let us learn from Banksy

2008-11-29T16:20:00.000+05:30

The attack on Mumbai is the talk all over the world. The armed jehadis or whatever name these terrorists had for themselves, are controlled as of now. People are talking about peace marches to be organised all over the nation. Politicians all set to fight terror, win votes and so many undertones of selfish greed, fear and the increasing uncertainty of life. Terror needs to go away from everyday lives. Politicians and Religion have failed to do so. All that is provided to us is a belief that the cops on the streets will take care, so will the Almighty.

The result of all this is scared humanity, seeking solace in the visits to religious shrines and peace marches. After the soothing comfort that stays for sometime, everyday life takes over. A life that is governed by work, commuting to various places, visiting markets, restaurants and diverting the thought that there could be an attack!

I am neither a politician nor an NGO that would want to arrange for an occasional peace march. I am an artist and that's what I can do best. Art Therapy to bring joy, at least the joy of creation is what I choose to do for the youth of today. Give them a medium of self expression that is not governed by any sort of a judgement system- its just there.

Indian Street Art is another project that I have taken. I called it Aawaz, now it has one of the very basic expressions defined- Aawaz of love and peace.

Let us all join hands together, all artists of the visual and performing arts and change what politicians of India, religions and the forces cannot.

Preparing a painting exhibiton?

2008-11-19T23:34:00.001+05:30

Showing ones talent is a tough task.

Well, Angelina might not agree but then we are talking of artists and beginners in the field. The ones who have experimented, collected money to pay the gallery or were lucky enough to get a sponsored show in some gallery.

What does one do after a set of paintings are ready to be put together for a show?

After having 7 shows and an itch to have another one sometime next year i.e. 2009, I thought its a good time to revise what I learnt and post it for new bees to refer to.

The two most important points that make an artist talked about are the strength the person has along with the referrals that come along. The strength of an artist, is what the creative individual truly likes doing and can do best. Look at history- Paul Klee, J Sultan Ali, Jatin Das and the rest of the gurus have their reasons to be remembered. They all could paint and so could the thousands of sign board painters that have lived till now, but how many turned to be another Hussain?

Never paint so that people can buy your work, sales happen eventually. Paint for a reason- freedom, dope, women, fun, spirituality whatever drives you should be there in your paintings. Be proud of what you are, the conviction needs to be known by the press that will write about you. If the press gets to know that you are putting ideas just to get a review, you might end up with a nice article- but then, how long will you manage to put up false ideas to charm people?

Slowly your true identity will reflect in your work and actions, the sooner the authenticity- the better for you.

There are zillions of points flashing around my head, I'll just put them down and then elaborate in the blogs that follow. To the points:

1. Be True

2. Plan your theme

3. Have everything ready at least a month before

4. Invites- they are more important than you think!

5. Framing and the opening

The list could get endless but patience to type is not.

My next show is going to be way better than the ones till now- coz i am getting ready in the mind. The question is- are you?

Indian Street Art

2008-11-15T01:19:00.000+05:30

I always wondered about the non existent street art in India and felt a bit sad as well. Guess I was waiting for an invitation from someone along with a paycheck to tell me to go ahead and paint walls.

Discussed painting public spaces in India with friends for the past two years, only to get frustrated with no one handing over the paycheck to go ahead. Its only been some two months of actually trying to work towards it with a few discussions, insight that there are other people who are painting walls in Mumbai with the same passion.

I am glad.

While there is a team of enthusiasts working in Mumbai, I am trying to hit the public spaces of Gurgaon. Painting spaces in Sushant Lok and Chakarpur to start with. Slowly growing, a hope that artists in Delhi will join me in this movement called Aawaz.

Lets make India beautiful and artistic.

Would be a pleasure to have insights on growing this movement so that Street Art reaches all nooks and corners of the country.

Art- On the Streets.

2008-11-11T02:33:00.001+05:30

Painting as a proffesion becomes a tiresome task at times.

The painting bit is the only fun thing left, the whole jingerbang around arranging a proper show with all the la di la gets on too much of a marketing stint. What hits me at times is the whole revenue generation model that has hijacked our brains. Galleries can be another sales pitch that becomes a brain drain, if you arent selling at Christies at the moment. Well, then there is the whole opening night bit.

Since I am not selling at Christies at the moment, my family is not linked with the page3 crowd (though they may know the newspaper ink makers). I thought and then thought some more, realizing that as an artist there is painting that I need with a few people looking at my paintings.

________________________________________________________

How many people would want to have the artist that is in them pop-up at times, color- for the joy of it and get back to thier daily chores, leaving behind joy and self expression?

That is what is Aawaz.

forming slowly, forming surely.

Aawaz- an intro.

2008-10-01T02:41:00.000+05:30

This is an Indian Street!

Thank you for your patience that you did not close this blog after reading the first line, yet the fact remains that- the picture is of a typical Indian Street. :P

These streets are fun to people who like exploring and still can relate to an India which talks of its own uniqueness, the fun of crowds and bumping into all sorts of professions that the glossy, shiny and massive malls fail to offer. The two contrasts that are shared here are not funny at all. They are actually dirty.

I am referring to the cityscape hanging between grand malls and cluttered streets. A space that is ignored and just left to its own destiny. I am referring to the ignored public space.

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have the honor of introducing Aawaz.

Aawaz is initiating social art in India through public spaces along with an opportunity of providing self expression and color to everyday lives.

Though usually I am not very humble, but I would like to make a humble request to all of you, Lets bring about this change of picking up spaces ignored and use them for some good and turn it to an expression of awareness, education, peace or pure fun. Lets join hands in making this India of ours vibrant, expressive and create a place for it in the world street art scene.

P.S. Please drop in your comments, I will keep on posting on how and what scale has Aawaz got to.

Tweezers in the eye

2008-07-29T23:09:00.001+05:30

These days I am taking a workshop on animation film making at Log 2 Craft Institute (the site has some virus threats currently) for direction students. The introspective artist that I am, never ceasing the thought process- I went back to the exercise of looking within, around the neighborhood, happenings of the day and the life gone past.

There was a lot of precooked ideas that took me o the institute- ideas that have been mentioned in a few blog posts earlier that cater to the lack of enthusiasm and seriousness in a student of today.
Today, I realized that these ideas are nothing but my own possessions, those colored glasses that I view the world from and prefer not to give them up. The team of 3 people that I am having an opportunity to felicitate for this week are superbly creative, yet the splinters of glasses in my vision choose to ignore it!

Thankfully, Ive just been treated of my vision.

To The Lifes Non Sensical Moments.......

2008-07-08T04:29:00.001+05:30

Art is Passe, Prostitution is the IN thing!

2008-06-10T12:11:00.001+05:30

Yesterday, my paintings were screened by a Gallery owner in Gurgaon. A lady who is a writer, a book critic and a book store owner.
The lady saw my works with a lot of interest, kept on gazing at them and finally- as though hit by a eureka, turned, and told me that there is something missing in my works! The lines are good, colors in place....... ummmm......... its the strokes! They aint what one calls experienced. Maybe, I should blend the colors in a more patient way, do something about it!!!!!

(Maybe this painting would never even be given a second look by these owners, but oops- its a Picasso!!!! If you want to be untidy then copy him....... else make nice looking paintings. That is maybe why everyone keeps on copying!)

All these owners want to turn everyone into clones, clones like the others. Clones- that are Universal and absolutely look alike. It is acceptable if I do a painting in pink if someone has done the same in red..... but do not even think of a blue or a green- That's not how it is done.

After a few years of playing and finding a style thats personal to me, a way that highlights how I can talk in colors and their application in a way that I can say belongs to me- I am told to talk plain!

No doubt these artists had to struggle so much. If they gave up....... the world wouldn't have had Matisse's and Picasso's.

I refuse to be a customer satisfying machine, I refuse to paint with selling as the main motive.

I refuse to listen to all the people who can do nothing but spread gyaan!

My own firm :)

2008-04-25T12:56:00.000+05:30

After a long sabbatical, I am finally back......

The Red Noos is hitting the web soon, pretty soon. :)

Stay connected here.

Thanks to all the well wishers!

Birds of feather....

2008-03-17T22:21:00.001+05:30

Fuzzy logics.....
Slowly and suddenly like a drug they hit you, paralysing everyday mundane existence, overlapping dreams, hallucinations and fears in a way that reality doesn't seem to be real anymore.

Sarandeep Grovers of all sorts, tastes and ideas sit and start singing their favorite tunes, the observer among them tries to understand the remix, while I blog.

There is no spoon!

2008-02-29T22:01:00.001+05:30

The kid looked at me. The grin wiped out and a sudden seriousness that reflected an awareness beyond age. Suddenly, he asked, "Whom are you trying to kid?"

Life. The phenomena that puts uncertainty to shame, makes seriousness and the most bizarre events look like babies, has now chosen to get amused by making me a target.

Holding the dumbells, I resolved to go thru another set of punishment. I am not gonna stop before 10 reps is what I told myself, exhaled and tightened my grip. This kid landed up from nowhere and started pulling my T-shirt. "Did you recognise me?", he asked. I can be real rude, with kids though I prefer smiling and talking so I did look at him, before I could refuse recognising him, I had to keep the weights down and sit coz my head was spinning.

"I am Saran," My own childhood telling me. The signature grin and a bundle of energy.

I was irritated and confused. Confused for the obvious reasons of seeing my own childhood not in any album or a picture- in flesh moving and throwing a volley of questions at me. It was this volley that was getting on my nerves.

Well, the kid struck with me for a day. If I write all of it, it would be a novel than a blog and I don't have that amount of patience. The initial shock moved away to joy and a pride of being a guide. This is my past and if he is gonna grow all over again in a certain other place, lemme warn him and tell him what took me years to figure out for myself. So, we got talking.

"I am an artist, I mean the you..... my elder you. I like drawing a lot. Wow...... an artist!!!! Can you draw as fast as I have been wondering if I can? Please make a fast super fast Bruce Lee speed sketch."

After a few demonstrations and flexing muscles we got into serious talking. I always like to talk to kids as if I am talking to someone who can understand, be it a heartbreak or financial worries or anything- I like to share it all.

He asked me a lot of questions, on how my life has been from the time he has yet not experienced. I told him all of it, easing his worries bout the future. Then I shared similar worries of a future with him, now I realise that where I took away my seniority.

Life till now has been easy, now I am scared with so many responsibilities..... If I miss out on anything even a bit.... I'm gone.

He kept quite.

I have to be responsible for myself to an extent that a family can be planned, luxuries enjoyed. Look at me.... I'm in a miserable state, dunno when will it get better.

After a long pause when he looked at me, it felt as if all the respect I had gained was under threat. Finally he spoke......

So, you are trying to tell me that I am scared in school, scared about a future.... a profession..... intelligence and flunking in class. To add to this is the impression I would cast on girls. You're telling me that my dreams of painting and drawing have made you...... When I am contemplating suicide.... you are telling me to dream on! Life will be set..... Couldnt see myself reaching the age you are living in. If you already know what got you where you are....... why cant you dream on?

It felt like a strong kick in the gut. After what seemed like eternity, I could only say, "As you grow older, things change... they aint that easy."

The kid looked at me. The grin wiped out and a sudden seriousness that reflected an awareness beyond age. Suddenly, he asked, "Whom are you trying to kid?"

2008-02-25T11:37:00.001+05:30

Money plays an important role in life.

Individuals are measured and respected by their bank balances and the capacity to earn. No matter how much we dislike the fact yet everything is moving around money. An artist is programmed with all the examples that the society has to offer about starvation, passion and the likes. This lands up creatives in the classic pull between the soul and the worldly.

Though I have had my fair share of miseries and frustrations as an artist, I still support the theory of suffering till an extent.

Rejections make you question how badly you want a certain thing along with checking your commitments towards life. The amount of artists that pass out every year from institutes plus the self learnt variety like me..... if we compare these figures with the ones who are successful and famous, is there not something wrong with the statistics? Why do a selected few only make it while the rest are forgotten?

Today when the art world is hyped with the sales and the kind of money an established artist makes, there are fresh graduates quoting any amount for their paintings. Slowly, the buyer is questioning on the parameters a painting can be judged and what would assure that the artist is worth it. Selling is slowly getting tougher. This again is refining the way to judge an artist, making it tougher for sales to materialize.

There is no fixed path for success..... dedication may get you there.

"Only those who dare to fail greatly

can ever achieve greatly."

-Robert Francis Kennedy.

CT Scan

2008-02-18T15:24:00.001+05:30

If someone did actually scan my brain any of these days..... the imagery would be very similar to what is posted here.
Ideas, thoughts and reality superimposed with such finesse that it forms the classic "Where am I?" Syndrome.
Waiting for the green of the sky to get back to orange.

Ahmed Sahab meets Neo.

2008-02-11T12:15:00.001+05:30

I have always believed that I am the next Picasso, or even bigger!

Call it overconfidence, dreams or stupidly naive thinking- but that is what has been with me. In me.
A divine path has been laid for me, time will reveal it to the rest of the mortals and my supremacy will be accepted.

Thanks to Orkut, I realised that a few thousand artists share the same belief! Adrenaline started pumping in me, the ninja warrior waking up from the deep slumbers, reaching out for the sword to kill one and all who tried to ape me. The odd blend that I am, slipping in my adidas sneakers, torn jeans and a hugging T shirt with a jacket to hide the flab around the waist, the long chain that holds the keys to my royal enfield- I stared in the mirror long and hard as if a Mike Tyson is looking in the eyes of his opponent; "Youre all DEAD!" Convinced, I tied the bandana around my head and reached for my sword. Suddenly, a hand emerged from within the mirror, caught me by the throat and just kept tightening itself. This cant be real I thought...... I am not a Neo inside the matrix, the sword is just an inch away. I dont have time for stupid fancies like these........ get up and kill!
Taken over by a way stronger human being, i would've still tried to reach for something that would injure and help me...... but this!!!

'Bhusaaval aa gaya.' The tea vendor confirmed as the train came to a halt. Suddenly life took over the animal that was moving in the darkness of night. The red snail stopped in the midst of strong smell- a mixture of refined oils, piss, toothpaste and bananas. Though the tea tasted awful, yet the warmth was a welcome change in chilly morning. Slowly chaos ruled over the train.... people waking up, calling for chai and the sounds of co passangers spitting and brushing their teeth filled the platform.
The seat next to me was taken up by a person wearing kurta pyjama, a skull cap and sported a beard with tobacco stained teeth. A Muslim was my first impression and something made me uneasy within. The thought was passed away with a smile and a realization that most of the warmest humans I have met till now have been of the same faith.
"Salaam", I said smiling. The black eyes lit up and the smile that followed warmed away the remaining traces of the cold.

A simple hindi speaking cook at a roadside hotel was this man sitting next to me. Ahmed Sahab and me instantly hit a comfort zone of two lost relatives.

"We all believe that we are special, when the world gets mean or we dont see life falling in the direction we want to move- Hatred, Hopelessness and Haziness takes over.
The fact is- We In truth are special!

We are all created for a cause, this cause cannot be answered coz no one- abseloutely no one can decipher the reason behind the will of Allah. Existence in itself means there is a plan, our meeting in this train has happened coz Allah wanted it, so be it.
Young minds like to think that they are the best. They are in a way God has willed them to be. Not everyone can be the biggest hero the century has seen, what they could be is- an instrument or a connecting dot in the line that underlines the best and the biggest. We are all interdependant.... If Gandhi was not pushed out of the train, maybe the chances of him being the Mahatma would have not been there. The person who pushed him, the hatred he potrayed that made the young lawyer resolve to get the changes he got is also an imprtant charecter- a catalyst in history.
So many people meet us and in a way we cannot understand- they change our lives, secretly moulding us in a way our maker wants His plans to be carried out.
No matter who we are, where we wanna go..... we need to trust that the all knowing and merciful Allah has plans for us all. Plans way greater than we have imagined."
_________________________________________________________

It was a different space time, the coffee I sip now is definitely better than what any of the stations could offer. I dont remeber very well what happened after the mirror caught me, it all seems to be a hallucination, but the mysterious mark on my throat always makes me wonder....
From the in numerable journeys that I have taken in the second class compartments of so many trains, I dont recall which particular journey I met Ahmed Sahab. All I remember is that it was a chilly february morning, those words resonating deep within me and a black out.

Its february again.
The memory of Ahmed Sahab haunts me specially this month of the year. The mystery is more troubling because it always is followed by a pain in the mark on my throat, as if it is somewhere interlinked with the spooky mirror incidence.

The only comfort that the pain brings along is an acceptance that Picasso was what he was, I am what I am.

I might lose myself in the thousands of self proclaimed Picassos of this age, the only thing that will help me is an acceptance of the fact that I am not Piccaso.....

I'm Grover.
Sarandeep Grover.

2008-02-07T21:54:00.001+05:30

In an attempt to be normal, we all turn on a fanatic that’s like a small crack in a water tank. Slowly, drop by drop we add on to the water going out- the fissure increases and the tank gets empty. A religious fanatic adds on the knowledge of scriptures to his brain till every word becomes a command, similar is for sports professionals and artists. The desire becomes so great that it consumes any other thought except the goal. A person in deep meditation loses all his surroundings; the athlete forgets pain and discomfort and the artist his hunger.
Normal people have better things to do in life…. Planning their taxes and looking after families till they become martyrs slowly. It starts with parental pressures, a job and then the welfare of their offspring’s. Every other specie on earth leaves their kids after a certain age to meet their fate, it’s only humane to build a fort around and then complain of suffocation. The trend continues with every parent living with the idea that they are giving all that they couldn’t get. Drop by drop we lose ourselves. Drop by drop our souls leak away.
One day we wake up and wonder about the stranger that stares at us from the mirror.

A fanatic adds value to his account- an extra prayer, another round of exercise, one more painting or extra time with the guitar. It’s a recurring deposit of confidence and courage. Others slowly give away their confidence and courage to the bosses, customers, loans and fee for the kids and all. Both are the same souls and the same bodies but wear opposite attitudes.
I am looking at all the brands and labels, toying inside a shopping mall that has attitudes displayed in nice hangars. The only problem is that I have to choose a particular section and swear loyalty to it. This is not a Shoppers Stop where I can buy a pair of Jeans with ultra formal shirts and wear them both under the tag of style.
The materials are the same, cotton silk or whatever with or without a bit of Lycra. Every one has responsibilities to cater to. One school says that you build something that’s bigger than the problems and you focus all your energy to a quality within and get self centered. The other school simply tells you to make the best of what you have- an attempt to minimize the problems and try to cruise.
I am not trying to sing praises for a fanatic, all I am trying to say is that in the end we are all fanatics with respect to different things…. There is one category that chases even if there are huge things at stake, while the other gives the power to others to chase them.

The musician in me is reminded of a song from Nagesh Kukunoor’s latest film:

We are same same…… No Different!

Introduction to my practise in a classroom.

2008-01-30T00:27:00.001+05:30

The basics of being a good artist are observation and practice. In visual arts, one has a liberty of abstraction and getting surreal- yet, it comes down to these two basic components- OBSERVATION and PRACTISE. Colleges and the many books available do provide a very nice methodology to learn drawing and paint; beyond that its again observation and practice.
These basics are an ocean, the more one practices the longer the journey seems to be!

I have always wanted to write some sort of tutorials and share it on this blog, but the seriousness of the subject would scare me. How can another article on drawing circles for faces, blocks for the human body contribute to the making of an artist?
This question has always troubled me, till I realized that artists are always in the making!

The workshops I take have been restructured to work on the mental aspect that assists them in finding expression. One of my favorite exercises is to let everyone introspect- choose 5 good qualities and 5 bad ones.
At this moment, the thought that these words are going to be there on the blog for anyone to come and read- anyone can leave a comment on how idiotic they think my approach is- its scaring me! Anyways, this fear is a block and I need to overcome it.
So, getting back to the good and bad qualities- they could even be blocks like the ones that keep popping up in my head about my image and the comments I can get even though my blog is hardly read by anyone!

Once this is done, try associating these qualities with some inanimate object or color that comes closest to the points listed. Paint something to express yourself, or make a film out of it. Make the character an icon and place it on your visiting card or your avatar online!

I have come across tremendous ideas in the workshops that I’ve taken so far. Piece of clay, a microphone, tunnel, road and a candle have been a few of these.

A young girl associated the candle to her life, lighting things around her friends when in gloom. The moment her friends felt better, she was forgotten like a candle that’s put off and not cared for after one gets electricity back.

What object do you choose? (This is for the very rare and occasional reader that would turn up, and read and still want to try :P)

2008-01-30T00:26:00.001+05:30

Sitting in front of the television watching movies, listening to radio whenever time permits- my ears have got so used to the jingles of insurances companies, followed by the seducing perfumes, deodorants and everything that can make you super cool in a jiffy. Then there are the eternal gags for selling anything where the ad agency could not think of anything else.
I am not blogging about ads and their merits; what surprises me is the ways we have let these ideas of insecurity haunt us so much everyday. Constantly think of something and u become that……. What do we become with these insecurities?

education.... or just another brick in the wall?

2008-01-18T23:33:00.000+05:30

Every time I sit with the thought of writing something on my blog, something about art- I get verbal constipation.
It’s now some 5 years that I have been teaching kids, youth occasionally all about drawing and how to approach it. At regular intervals I remind people sitting in my class that I am not here, to tell them a how to approach, to anything. I am a friend, a guide who has toyed with a pencil, paper and a few colors for a longer time than the people who want to start- that’s all there is to it. Apart from a few rules of anatomy, perspective and construction which need to be learnt, after that it’s completely the whim of the artist whether he wants to use them or no.
Most, rather all the art schools provide nothing but a strong command over these basics. After the course, a true seeker finds the burden of de- learning so great that he compromises with a mere cut n paste of all the art movements that have been there. Though, there is nothing wrong in this since there are the pressures of being successful and all other things related. What matters- are you being true to yourself?
If Picasso was satisfied with his art, all the so called “periods” that have been there might have never existed. Pick any great master; what makes him great is the struggle he had to be true to what art meant to him. Lautrec, Paul Klee, Gustav Klimt, Henri Matisse, Sultan Ali or even Hussain; if these men hadn’t struggled, stood for what is right- art would be completely different.
The problem with this approach is that it doesn’t provide any system to grade the pupil, and takes away the authority from a teacher. Laziness can be easily hidden under the brand of a personal style and again, integrity suffers!
What is it that I am trying to do with my argument against the institutional approach?
What I believe in has the risk of taking away discipline and employment from a number of organizations. Most of the great names of art have any which ways been a by product of self learning than any lessons by anyone.
Inside a class room, I have faced this problem so much that it frustrates and shivers my innards. The moment I enter a class, I am looked upon as an authority that will tell them what is right, what is not. I am supposed to write a computer program on the board or speak it out aloud. Everyone knows the defined parameters and production begins- a red sun with a tinge of saffron, a nose between the two eyes etc. the moment one tells them to innovate and think- bang! A mutiny can almost be sensed!
When I teach, it’s not with the intention of creating great artists. If one can enquire and ask questions about ones own existence and choices…….. Victory is mine!

An after thought: Who am I to do this?

Creativity- a new perspective.

2008-01-10T23:11:00.000+05:30

Creativity is a misled notion, an abstraction that has been over romanticized by the intellectuals, manipulated by institutions and used as a differentiation tool to categorize people of different tastes.

Sadly, I am branded as someone who is creative.

The rhetoric here is that yes, I do feel good when looked upon as a mind that thinks in abstractions, talks emotions and picks up colors from the lands that are yet unexplored within.
These ranks that people offer me give me a high that brings in pride, a medal for my ego that says- I know and I can interpret!
The very next moment makes me realize that I just had an encounter with a thug. It’s not robbery, but the podium that is created and provided to all these so called creative people is an approaching dead end.

The result is that all these talented people, if I can take the liberty of calling them so; get into the rut of approvals, running after everyone and giving them theories and loathing in self pride just because they could provide a feeling of awe: A momentary respect from a rambler who happened to inquire to the artist, the meaning of his creation.
This exercise gets so empowering for the artist that he forgets everything else and gets into theories, trying to express what never can be!
Slowly but surely, moving away from the essence of the word- creative.

We see colorful brochures at every show that talk of the artist and what makes him paint. Volumes of words explain the meaning of a song, and why the musician chose those particular instruments over the others along with the tone and feel. THIS is anything but creativity!

A child enjoys the pattern of rain in a puddle, texture of muck, the sight of stars and the shades of nature. Imitation of strange voices heard, stories cooked up to impress or scare peers narrated at the most odd hours. Looking at things differently, questioning his eco- system and going by the gut feel is what a child is all about. After the constant attacks of society, the survivors of this massacre of being one with nature are either looked down upon and shunned away, or respected and hyped up extremely.
Both of these extreme reactions work in a certain way of their own, the artist is too much in the situation to realize and foresee that the time he could have dedicated to keeping his essence alive is either spend in making ends meet, or attending conferences!

I was reading something told to a reporter by none other than Picasso himself, there was a certain sort of irritation in the artists tone whenever he would be asked what a certain canvas meant. Beauty and art, if at all they are separate entities are meant to be felt, than read.

There is too much forming within, the increasing traffic inside is not letting me put words that result in sentences. A song is playing in my head………

I can’t explain and you won’t understand………

2008.

2008-01-01T16:25:00.000+05:30

A new year is nothing but a projection of what lies within. Few people are happy with partying, most follow a trend of making resolutions that compel them to give up a habit which is nothing but a part of them, a few days later- the habit returns, so does the same old life.
Life for me is an experiment, a dream child; my own company of whom I am the CEO and all. Alternative therapies, reiki and the Landmark Forum have taught me the values that a management student would learn for business.

A new year is nothing but a milestone in the road of life. A milestone that tells me where I have reached, it is the tea break on a highway that makes me look back and see the distance covered and figure out in which direction I want to move ahead.
As an artist, the main journey this year is getting to know fellow artists and letting the world know, I am.
There are few other things that I have added to the list that I need to do, with constant reality checks and current state analysis.
This is the third year of me doing this exercise every new years, slowly its getting more detailed and the commitments which I make to myself are taking a different sort of seriousness.

I am getting more responsible for my own life, and I invite you to do the same.

As an afterthought- warm wishes for 2008. :)

updates

2007-12-28T16:56:00.000+05:30

Intuitions.
The last post was all about movement, a stir that was making me look forward to new possibilities. Here I am, in Ahmedabad and seems I will be here for good.
Several job possibilities, not good money but the rest of it all- power, prestige and repute.
A chance to write, illustrate and do the graphics!
After a butt-aching 20 hour drive on my bullet, the action was not over. 2 offices, opportunities and calls from various placement agencies, am back to thinking again.
What do I want from life? Or to rephrase the same, what has life made me for?

The next few days will tell me where I will be geographically placed, till then its radio, this PC in an office and thoughts.

clack goes the time machine- its retro time!

2007-12-15T00:56:00.001+05:30

Approximately 3 years back, a youth full of ideas, aspirations and a will to contribute and change the world entered Pune. The desire to perform and test himself was so great that he had cut all family ties, given up on what his existence had been all the 24 summers that he had seen.
Day one, the scissors of the barbers shop went snip snap on his hair, and he was no more a Sikh boy.
Today, I am reminded of my grand entry in Pune again and again. This city has contributed so much to my becoming what I am the way no other city has ever done before. I simply did what situations wanted me to. One way, this place has given me the confidence that had always wanted to be my friend. From dependency, I slowly moved towards complete independence that brought along an increased amount of self doubt, the absence of someone to be blamed for anything that went wrong.
Falling in love, changing my ideas towards working out, rum and coke along with an occasional fag, lot of cycling and my bullet is what this city has given me.
4 exhibitions, questions about art and existence along with a designation in a CMM level 5 organization.

“Been there, done that and still loving it”

Today, I am jobless again. With the same desire to paint- a few ideas refined and a few ideals given up. There have been highs and lows, after a full cycle I stand here and think of the circle of life, a person’s relationship with his environment and things coming to an end…..
Day one in this city is bringing memories and a question- Is it time to move on?

an ounce of events.

2007-12-10T22:03:00.001+05:30

Life teaches is lessons in a way that’s way too weird for anyone to understand, even I stand all clueless as others- eyes opened wide, shoulders shrugged and muscles so not in control that I find myself drooling of shock and amazement!
This is experience, fate or the Tao of life.

The stock of confidence that has always been present within, in overflowing amounts finds absolutely no co-operation from my mind or body for the most simplest of things.
As a result, things have ceased to surprise me.

Ask me if I can run for 20 minutes straight, though there are times when I can do an easy 50- I wont be sure. The same goes for coming up with a painting, a simple landscape or something.
I’ve been blessed with a similar experience yet again.
Recently, a project that I was very confident of finishing has slipped away- The result is no monies!

Life has been so unpredictable, that even tension and depression don’t hang around in my company. That’s how lonely one can get!
The first blow hits, the second stings. Then, after a series of blows- your wounds start smarting and calling for attention. Few minutes later, all goes numb. Things get blurred; the blows don’t seem to have much effect either. You simply stand there like some inanimate object. Suddenly, the director in the head tells you to change the camera angle, set it to a wide angle, placing the characters in the middle ground. Get detached!
You do.

You learn to move on.

Am I dying?

2007-12-04T01:14:00.000+05:30

There is a writer, a vagabond, film maker, artist and a faculty in me.

This is what I have always wanted to do, compromising for jobs that were picked up randomly because of the social pressures and the idea of providing a warm, respectable home for a wife, the kids and all the romantic ideas that the likes of Karan Johar and the Yash Raj Banner had infected me with.
All that I stood for till now, believed myself to be is slowly dissolving in the stream of life. The streaks of color flowing away, interesting patterns that formed my past blending with other shades that arise from the same source into a kaleidoscopic movement- as if a brush that had multiple shades of oil paint has been dipped inside a river. I see myself flowing away.

Yikes! I see myself flowing away. The shade of blue that’s moving out in blobs is what I have been in IBM- the Graphic Specialist. That red- that’s the Bruce Lee effect!
Oh Lord! Please save me. I have been thrown around in muck, smashed with experience that talks to others on what I am, because that is how people look at everyone.
I agree that I have always prayed for realization of the self and all the spiritual jargon that is the in thing; but Lord- that’s just to throw around intellectual ideas and tell people that hey! If you think you are smart, its time to meet your Papa.
I am what the colors of experience have made me. If You take that away- the way its happening now- I WON’T BE!!!!!

Giving up on writing and travel, I took up mentoring and managing. Going to the extent that I started working as a PMO as well, simply because working for a MNC makes me look like an achiever and a reliably intelligent guy for some one to marry.

It’s all going away.

I’m scared to face what will emerge after the wash. God, will you help me face the remains? (Freak! I am so dependant.)

Wanna join me in the deep blue sea?

2007-12-03T00:13:00.000+05:30

Hope.
A raft of beaten out logs of wood tied together with strands of fragile threads that were ropes- once upon a time.

Faith.
Expecting to hit land, amidst the rising waves before the raft opens up.

Belief.
The idea that the water is not deep enough.

a lesson in faith

2007-11-28T23:38:00.000+05:30

The junction I currently stand on is the junction I currently stand on.
The Landmark Forum- a short course in transformations and breakthroughs in life talks a lot in the way I have started this post. I don’t really know why or what has given me this sense of calm that I experience nowadays, Landmark forum happened around 3 years back, yet the phrase haunts me even now!

Staying under prior financial commitments, I decide that the job I have is not the way I see my life- so I say sayonara.
Last 2 days for “I See God.” No one interested to take a painting home.

This is where I stand at the moment, this is my juncture.
I did this in the middle of a dissolving cold war with the Almighty, where trust and having faith is the deal I signed on. As a consolation for my trust in Him, I started hoping for a reward in the form of a sale or a smooth start in my new Endeavour’s.
I was wrong.

Yet, the faith remains…..

Post- I See God

2007-11-24T14:42:00.000+05:30

Articulating thoughts can be a real tiresome task at times, especially when the thoughts are a messed up ball of thread and no patience to sit with the strand in hand and keep wondering on the approach. Multiple beginnings and the impatience to hold on to one way, that’s what I land up in- Chaos!

A floating idea on what my new paintings have to be, along with the desire to rerun the moment when it struck me. Freeze the frame and run around it. Observing each thought as it came and talk to it.
How best can you be expressed?

Wait till an answer begins to come.

My new studies have to be the bone marrow of what makes me, exposed.
The next step to my spiritual paintings- my philosophy, not too in the face that it looks as if I am preaching. Expressions, those are not too illustrative.
Stories of Five Decades, the philosophy of Richard Bach, murals of Klimt, Sufism and the lyrics of Floyd delivered with the same finesse of their music.
The demons in the head and the hope in the heart, merged with social pressures and our conditioning as Hindus or Muslims. Peaceful, fun loving neighbors that make 1984 or Godhra happen.

The lost essence of Humanity.

Then, I question myself. When we humans had the essence and lost it?

New confusions arise. I do not want to pick up a particular incident of history and talk about it. Partition or religious riots are not what I want to talk about. Yet, at the same time I cannot help but question religion- The identity that is given to a person when born and stays smeared in the hearts of many generations, till one person takes the courage to unbelong. This question I want to ask to all the spiritual heads, the masses that listen to them and follow them. I want to ask them all- Why?
Why do we set boundaries and tie ourselves in chains?

The residue of all this is nothing but a feeling of compromise- called life by many.

These are the questions I want to paint. The aim is not to preach or to generate enquiry in the hearts of the onlookers. If that happens- It’s a bonus.

Its freedom I seek. The freedom I talked about in my earlier post. I seek liberation from these questions that run a full circle and end up in the same feeling of disgust and spite.
Melting away the despair and applying it in the form of colors. An attempt to transfer the thoughts within to canvases outside, creating voids to be filled in yet again- Evolution, if I can call it that.

It happens when it happens.

Going within.

2007-11-20T02:17:00.000+05:30

What makes me the person that I am?

This question is asked by all who think and walk the road of self enquiry. Like everyone else, I also never get crisp clear answers, all that is left is the aftertaste of rhetoric. Yes, psychology and healing does help me get a vague picture of what all got me in this present that I am in. The probable future I am heading towards. Using various schools of improvisation I do get a birds eye view of the whole of my habit patterns, altering them does effect the float of my existence in the flow of life. I hope I am not talking too vaguely abstract as always! :P

Maybe one day I would start blogging about exercises that help me- basics that I came across, toyed with and found them helping me. Taking them to a level where it turned out to be a blend of reiki, holistic healing and being positive.

As of now, I am trying an artistic approach for shedding away baggage's. Picking up themes that have always had an influence on me. Recurring horses gave way to the show- "Am I Hussain?". Mythology has materialised the current show, "I See God". Now, I am slightly in a state of zen, the horses have galloped away and hopefully the Gods will leave me too, getting back only when called for rather than haunting me.

If freedom is the byproduct of painting, let me paint negativities this time.

I want to paint away all that I laugh at, get depressed for. Its amazing- this block I have, now that I am thinking about it- I realise that the list of depressing factors is so large, am not sure how will I articulate it coherently.

If the end result is gonna be freedom- I don't think that there is anything wrong in trying.

What say?

random musings.

2007-11-19T01:02:00.001+05:30

Be at peace.....
No fret for things not done and not achieved. Give in to the Divine plan and celebrate.

Is the art market a boon for artists?

2007-11-18T15:06:00.001+05:30

As a relatively new practitioner of art, I find myself asking this question to myself again and again. The plus point here is definitely bigger and better bucks, which it seems the artists of times gone by could never really imagine. Then there is this huge line of people who try to open up galleries, present themselves as art dealers and skin these artists wanting to make it big. The end result is pretty chaotic. At one side you have these slightly experienced artists, doing all sorts of stunts and asking for funny money. There was this installation art show that I went to- the artist had worked with his daughter, and there were these drawings by this little kid in pastels- priced at Rs. 4000.00 and Rs. 8000.00.

Mostly, the bunch with lesser skill has a lot of money...... or maybe its the people with money developing a desire to toy with art. The end result is that any gallery you visit with the idea of having a show puts forth a sky high rent for the gallery space, an equally high commission that they are gonna charge per sales. Ask them for the services they provide....... hey, lets not discuss services- it makes art sound too business like!

There are these artists who make their kids put up their drawings at a high price under the name of art. There are these elite class hobby artists who sell their canvases for a super cheap price. There are these galleries who are concerned with nothing but their cuts and all the money that they can get.

How and what does a person with a desire to paint and express through colors, line and form; Wanting to make a living by his creations- and a hope to be remembered as an artist do?

Curator Speaks

2007-11-16T23:39:00.000+05:30

Awanti Seth Rabenhoej comments on Sarandeep Grover's show "I See God."

Malaka Spice launches Merchandise

2007-11-16T14:40:00.001+05:30

Buddha

2007-11-09T04:40:00.001+05:30

Acrylics on Canvas

18 x 24 inches

Do you have a Ranjha?

2007-11-08T21:46:00.001+05:30

Raanjha raanjha kardi main

aape raanjha hoi

raanjha main vich main raanjhe vich

hunn heer na aankho koi.

The child who was struggling with drawings, frustration of the inability to have command on the lines. Dreaming, under the blanket of painting with a feverish speed. Creating forms in the voids that stare. Voids of blank spaces- the empty canvas. The kid thinking, seeing himself paint and mumbling, "I wish...."

This child haunts me from the alleys of my life, popping out suddenly as if playing a game. Manifesting himself as a grown up, if not a grown up then definitely someone wise. The kid telling me to take a chill pill and relax. Bringing with him the memories of the artist that was always in me, hidden somewhere.
The desire to be.

Now I am.

This is a milestone achieved. A tick mark in the list of things that have to be done. Mission Ranjha in the form of an artist completed.
The desire to be, with the exercising of your free will brings you to a place where the desire fades into reality. A reality that you always wanted, a desire that was hidden in you.

Raanjha Raanjha kardi main, aape raanjha hoi.......

These words hit me, replacing raanjha for desire it feels as if another layer in this mystery of life is revealing itself. The mystery of wanting and believing.

For the kid once upon a time, life as an artist was unimaginable majorly because of the ignorance that an artist is a way to live. A profession.
The kid has grown up, as an artist!

Keep dreaming Saran, you might land up manifesting your dreams.

Dear Reader, What are you waiting for?

Is it the monday morning blues?

2007-11-05T09:18:00.001+05:30

Waking up, I realised that I am not at peace.

A bit of introspection led me to a path that had always been there, somehow never got noticed. A path that is taken by all who plan, all who dream, all who desire.

The path of self criticism.

Cutting my self brutally with an intention to move forward, work on my color palette and attain that freedom in my strokes and thoughts. Telling myself what the world tells me- That's the way to improve.

I have improved.

A plan to merchandise hit me, owing to the fact my work has a certain language of its own.
Wham! I share this with a dear friend of mine who gives me space to display my work. He got excited! I land up painting all of the weekend, starting with ideas in my head and ending up with a sample.

Brilliant!

That's the reaction I get.

16th November, 2007 seems to have a lot in store- a lucky day maybe. The show and merchandising begin on that date. Not bad at all.

Now comes the confusion. I am playing all the events in loops, going forward and backward like a detective searching for the thief who was too fast, in stealing away the cloud nine I am supposed to be riding. Whirrrrrr goes the tape in my head. Click. Stop. Play. Pause. Rewind. Whirrrrrrrr. Clack.

Staying alone has its own effects. I get to be James Bond at times, or a stupid bloody security camera in charge- watching this stupid tape for a crook that doesn't show up. Whirrrrrrrrr. Clack.

A slight drop in my own jaw, inside the movie makes the all eyes detective sit up. Taking a closer look, I go hmmmmmm.....

There wasn't a theft of any sorts. I was attacked. Its the pain that is responsible for the absence of enthusiasm, leaving me with a disability that I cannot dance. Dance away to craziness, and shout eureka! That too naked. If not the streets, then in the shower at least.

Self criticism has reached a level where it has turned me into something evil for my art. Most of my works, no matter how much I like them seem to be a part of the vice I should abstain from. The vice of celebration, on the awareness that the fizzy thoughts in my head have started making sense to people. Before anyone appreciates me, I punish myself. Move. move move. Do not appreciate your work- else you will stagnate. Move.

The defence attorney, reiki healer, dweller of holistic healing. Split side of Sarandeep Grover, my own alter ego stands, blabbers and goes away to some fantasy land of floating custard pies and other happy thoughts.

If I do not appreciate my own work. How do I expect others to do so?

Sarfaroshi ki tammana.....

2007-11-04T03:19:00.000+05:30

Jobs.
Everyone has one, and they complain of it.
Me included.

Not anymore :)

i quit.

I See God. A Preview 2

2007-10-28T16:54:00.001+05:30

Narsimha by Sarandeep Grover

10x12 inch

Acrylics on Canvas

2007-10-27T21:29:00.001+05:30

The world today is so opinionated.

Either they see a Picasso, or a Hussain in my works. If not that, then they suddenly see cartoonish drawings and pass on a comment.
I might be influenced by Picasso and Hussain, or even comic art for that matter. If these are my strenghts- I'd prefer developing them to an extent where influences fade away and something else takes shape. THIS is my journey- my evolution.

Painting is my journey.
A journey that is not too literal in telling a viewer a story, emotions or achievements. It's fragments that simply say- I am.
Dynamic at times, wanting to draw horse art or Gods the next moment. That is what is me.

Hailing from a family where the concept of God was these photographs over a book shelf, a portion in the house that is supposedly so sacred that it gets ignored most of the time. The missionary school gave me a fair idea on what Hell is and how Jesus can be my only saviour. Hinduism, comics and dreaming started playing in loops in my days. Slowly, spirituality started taking over, with an enquiry that surfaces like a childhood song- Is God something to be scared of, and depicted in a certain way?

Please participate and help me understand.

I See God! A Preview.

2007-10-26T00:49:00.001+05:30

Painting of Lord Ganesha

Acrylics on canvas.

Art work by Sarandeep Grover.

The Tao of something?????

2007-10-25T22:19:00.001+05:30

As September ends- I find myself in a wierd state of tranquil chaos, along with the wallet getting scared.... Another show approaching!

16th November 2007, Malaka Spice showcases selected works of Sarandeep Grover titled- I see God. Please come and share the vision of the artist...... These lines always shake me up and I sit and wonder what am I, or if this question is framed in a different way- What is art all about?

Everyone focussing on the way art investment is the big thing- branding and treating paintings as a form of fetching money, better returns etc. I find myself being questioned by people on the current trends of art, and a probable forecast on what will be in demand 10 years from now.
Dear Reader, Let me confess - I myself dont have any clues on the same!!!!!

I paint coz something in me prompts me to.

Its madness. After almost 8 years, the method to this madness is gradually revealing itself. The reasons behind the common elements and the themes chosen till now are surfacing slowly. Withheld desires, fantasies and childhood impressions are reflecting in the form of shows and bringing along a freedom, from the past- and an emptiness to move forward. Thats precisely what hit me in the morning.
The approaching void.

What will I do after 30th of November??

2007-10-24T14:42:00.001+05:30

Today, the sounds in my head became clear and I realized that a small voice is asking me why have I stopped blogging?
Sit in an office that gives you the responsibilities of PMO (Project Management Office), surrounded by techies who talk nothing but spreadsheets and shares, status of the machines that need to be reformatted for the zillionth time in the last 2 months. A manager that is always in the need of some data, and the credit card companies that call you to ask you if you need any sort of service from them........ How can I blog?

Sarandeep Grover, the PMO of this software firm is a threat to Saran- the artist.

The artist wants to go all out and start a mutiny- but alas! Even a mutiny needs money which this job offers me. Damn! I sound like this frustrated husband whos wife is too over spiritual to be experimental in bed, but the free sex keeps me quiet. So- here is my secret affair..... This blog.

I promise myself to get back to it every now and then so that my creativity finds an outlet, a mode of communication for the chocked artist to go all out and tell the world whats happening.
My journey from shows to shows- canvases to canvases. From one attempt to make it big and spend all my savings on a show that turns to be a disaster, and a thought of never to paint again to the middle of the night where i get aware that I am gearing myself for another show!

That's me.

And I am back with a revamp.

Untitled- Am I hussain?

2007-08-02T13:46:00.002+05:30

walk with ideas.

2007-08-02T13:43:00.001+05:30

On a holiday, what if I choose to go from point A to point R and then move to random places, and return to point B; where I should have reached earlier?

There are times when the lessons in anatomy, landscape or still life study become a wall that we have built around us and choose to live in it and talk of the freedom of art! These days are nearly same when I have to stare at the blank sheet of page, think and keep on thinking on the way a figure could take shape in the void, draw a few lines and then hunt for a new sheet of paper, mumble over my pencil, reach for the pen and get annoyed with it as well. Some people call it a creative block, but my ego doesn’t like the idea of some abstraction taking hold of my brain and paralyzing it.

Last night, looking at my older sketch books- the problem didn’t seem to be that big anymore. The corner of a page on a sketch book that I was using 2 years ago had some text scribbled in it (during a similar frustrating phase) that got the shape of a painting I had done last year.

I immediately got back to my sketch book and started doodling in it, with an understanding that if I don’t really get any concrete ideas at the moment, this time might help me form a painting that’s going to be appreciated sometime in the future- a reason good enough to be filling pages with visual jargon.

During the times that I teach people drawing and thinking laterally for the canvas, I always give them the advice that I forgot myself when faced with the dead end of thought.

I’d like to post it here for myself, and others who may find it useful when facing similar blocks: When your line doesn’t listen to you, and your brain runs in a tangent….. Take them out for a walk.

Cupid

2007-03-13T13:45:00.000+05:30

Acrylics on paper.

A Painting of Lord Krishna by Sarandeep Grover.

2007-02-24T23:49:00.001+05:30

16 young artists.

State Gallery of Fine Arts.

Hyderabad.

Did I just mention gallery of fine arts? Apologies dear friend, what i meant was a place that was supposed to be the finest gallery in Andhra Pradesh, even India for that matter, but as fate would have it- has turned out to be one of the finest indoor shooting studios.

In our stay for a week there, we saw the who's who of Telegu Film Industry, straight from Chiranjeevi to Prabhu deva. Any Andhra-ite would have given anything to be in our place.

Of the rare visitors that happened to enter the galleries, a few took a brisk walk, nodding and chanting "good. good" and everything they happened to cast their eyes on. the remaining inquired about the artists and the prices with unfulfilled promises to return and purchase.

One interesting gentleman happened to inquire all about art investments and the durability of our works.

"What kind of gains would I get if I pick up any of these?"

After a volley of questions, he happened to freeze on one of the paintings that accidentally happened to be mine! The reason for his choice was not anything but the title:

"Me, hussain and horses"

"This has the mention of Hussain in it, so I think this should get famous" He too went out of the exit- forever.

Finally, we packed all that we had with us and returned.

The gang consisting of an art promoter cum art material supplier, 5 senior artist that had another show in the same gallery, one senior lady who works in ceramics and me.

Two students of an art college tagged along who did nothing but laugh and enjoy the free stay! The fact that they did not sketch or study during the whole week was a bit hard to digest for me, but then again- who am i to pass any judgements?

2007-02-02T21:33:00.001+05:30

"Jaan Hai!"
I can still hear the echo of these words ringing somewhere within my home and me.

"Jaan Hai!"
These words were the reaction of this art faculty who visited my place, looked around and kept on repeating the same.... Got Talent!
The guy so liked my works that he gave me a free demo on how to color better.
The words made sense, and the demo has got me to a stage that, after that day haven't really colored much!

The basic lesson provided was to interplay with the dark and light shades, give highlights thus providing depth to the painting.

Point taken sir.

Teachers are always trying to discipline pupils, teaching them how to's..... They are important. No doubt.

Though self taught and majorly a rebel, the words still echo within and make me question my technique.
What about those who wanna invent a language of their own?

taandava

2007-01-11T11:30:00.001+05:30

Sarandeep Grover's version of Tandava.
acrylic on board
3ft x 4ft

paradox

2007-01-11T11:07:00.001+05:30

Care a fuck bout the present,
ditto to the future.
I am my own parasite.
I am the hip youth of today.

2007-01-05T11:47:00.001+05:30

We are always cribbing.
Politicians. Traffic. Rules. Pollution. Procrastination.
About not having enough.
Things changing.
Things not changing.

Comparisons start.
between countries and the amount of money they have to throw away.
Intellectual capital.
Food habits.
Surveys- for poverty, and even the average age of people losing their virginity.

STOP.

Let us for a change look at the miracle of survival in the middle of this chaos.

P.O.V.

2006-12-19T17:35:00.001+05:30

A factory unit, manufacturing a product.
Counting hours. Number of products manufactured…. All identical.

That’s what society is.

A school with the same uniform, lessons, way of teaching and standards that confirm a global product- ready to use after graduation.
Similar cubicles.
Similar apartments and row houses.
Branded clothes that look the same.

Think differently, and get ready to be counseled.

Individuality is passé.

Join the Dance!

2006-12-15T13:15:00.000+05:30

Acrylics on Canvas Board
3ft x 3ft

Robert Genn says:

2006-11-29T11:55:00.000+05:30

It's not just the stuff you're looking at, or the magical
dreams of your head, it's what you do with your material.
"Nature," said James McNeill Whistler, "is usually wrong." What
he meant was that in order to be art, things need to be
redesigned. In many cases, stuff needs to be moved, separated,
lined up, brought into agreement or in some way justified as a
thing of its own--a troublesome leap of faith for many. Fact
is, there's gotta be meaning and purpose.

Reality Bites

2006-11-21T15:06:00.001+05:30

"My paintings are a fantasy of horses- expressing their desire to be the master"

These were the only words that the artist spoke.
Huge and not so huge canvases decorating the walls in bright colors. Horses with limbs shaped like humans, involved in some chore or the other.
Bright colors.

My intention of going for the show was an interview with the artist, a middle aged lean figure, bright eyes covered behind thick glasses. A small diary with the telephone numbers of prospective buyers.
The conversation lasted a complete 7 minutes, the reason I have started this blog and a brief introduction of myself- the artist working as a designer etc etc, lasting for 5 minutes. "Thank you, but I don't have anything to tell you, please see my paintings and leave your comments."
Silence followed for a minute.

The sound of fingers on the telephone keys, while I sat there clueless.
Travel plans on the background and questions about the time of buses, I realized its time for me to get up and get going. Anger, depression and something else hit me.
If I had flashed a card of some prominent magazine,declaring that I write for them, would things have been different?

On retrospection, maybe the guy was simply shy and not good with 'self marketing'.
I'd like to believe in the fact that he was not very verbal, like the normal bunch that I have met.

Now, why do most artists suffer this verbal constipation?

The Question Again...

2006-11-16T18:16:00.001+05:30

The Question Again
Acrylic on board.

2006-11-16T17:55:00.001+05:30

I look at the canvas and it looks back
my brushes work on it, the heart listens
when it speaks no more
my hands cease.

Saturday Afternoon

2006-11-14T12:10:00.001+05:30

Saturday Afternoon.
Artist: Sarandeep Grover
Inks on Paper.

2006-11-10T13:58:00.001+05:30

Painting is an inner dialogue projected on canvas.

The pupil can be taught a methodology to simplify this seemingly Herculean looking task, provided with an understanding of the mediums and the modes. Filled with doubts a canvas is approached- a dab here and a stroke there. The rules of the game are understood, bending and stretching them slowly till they no more exist.
Now, when everything is unlearnt, the actual journey begins. Style forms and the paradox of satisfaction and discontent befriends you.

"Each picture, as I finish it, seems like the best thing I have ever done, and yet after a while I am not so sure. It is like taking a train to Marseille. One knows where one wants to go. Each painting completed is like a station- just so much nearer the goal. The time comes when the painter is apt to feel he has at last arrived. Then if he is honest, he realizes one of two things- either that he has not arrived, after all, or that Marseille is not where he wanted to go anyway, and he must push farther on." - Matisse.
Check your stock of paints, roll your canvas and wait for the next train. You can sketch in the meantime.

I am single lonely ...

2006-11-08T18:12:00.001+05:30

2006-11-08T11:47:00.001+05:30

I have been happy with the knowledge that Picasso used to struggle with words. Whatever was there on canvas, was all that had to be said.
This piece of information has guarded my thoughts to such a degree that, whenever an idea tries to move out and stretch its legs, go for a brisk walk maybe and just enjoy freedom of expression- it fails to do so!

Selling love quotes to the whole world; I am no longer interested in seducing the love of my life.
She sits in a corner, feeling Unwanted.

Unloved.

I try to reach out and speak, but the inner monsters hold me back. I am scared of venturing into the unknown.

Of losing her forever.

Picasso is DEAD.

The aim of this blog is to act as a journal for my art and interaction with fellow artists.

Dig the past, find the present.

Remember Picasso, not imitate him.

Hopefully, make a clearing for the future.

Lost?

2006-11-07T12:56:00.001+05:30

2006-11-06T19:41:00.001+05:30

Art by Sarandeep Grover.