17 June, 2021

Erotic Origins

Prabuddha relives his book, "Women".

Erotic Origins
As far back as I can remember I've been surrounded by images of women. My father was a sculptor, who along with a few others started the modernist movement in Indian sculpture. My early years were spent amidst clay, plaster and bronze, moulded into voluptuous torsos, and writhing limbs. At the National Gallery of Modern Art where my father was the director, I spent a lot of time in the air-conditioned rooms if only to escape the terrifying Delhi summers. My favourite was the Amrita Sher-Gil room—women, dark skinned, with haunting eyes and upturned breasts. Their melancholic faces, suggestive of suppressed desires and passive eroticism. So it was only natural that when a camera found its way into my hands some 15 years ago, I would point its gaze at women.

My earliest experiments with nudes were disastrous, resembling illustrations for anatomy lessons. I knew then that the nude was the most challenging of all subjects, combining the requisites of portraiture, landscape and still life.

Some pictures in this book go back at least 10 years when the idea of putting together a...

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