Art Ichol Journal

Journal 

MMXIV Volume One

Dedication 

“चली थी बस इक ख़्वाब लेकर 

मुड़के देखा, तो पाया कारवाँ ।।”* 

I’m a dreamer. Making my dreams a reality would never 

have been possible without my family. It was my in-laws 

S. N. and Padma Beri who first brought me to Maihar, which 

I suppose is when it all started. Art Ichol would never have 

been built without my father, Suraj P. Subherwal and my 

mother who endured his long absences. My sons Aditya 

and Anshuman have been pillars of support. But above all 

has been the unfaltering encouragement and support of my 

husband Sanjiv who, unknowingly perhaps, showed me the 

way. I dedicate Art Ichol to each of them, to my staff, my 

friends and everyone who helped me along the way, to build 

this dream. 

Ambica Beri 

Maihar 

*from writings in Maihar by ceramic artist Rekha Bajpe Aggarwal

Editor: Gopika Nath 

Editorial assistant: Tanya Dutt 

Gallery Support: Tanya Dutt, Goutam Mukherjee 

Design: Gopika Nath 

Design elements: Shalini Jaikaria from design for 

‘Maihar Scarf ‘ [mail@geishadesigns.com] 

Design Assistant: Divyanshu Dutta Roy 

[www.duttaroy.com] 

Printed and published by: Ambica Beri for Art Ichol, 

Village Ichol [Between Khajuraho and Bandavgarh], 

Maihar, Madhya Pradesh 485 771 

www.artichol.in 

email: info@artichol.in 

Tel No.: (0091) 07674-292 071 

www.gallerysanskriti.com 

email: info@gallerysanskriti.com 

Tel No.: +91 983 100 9278 

Printed at Pixcel India, Kolkata 

Tel No.: +91 983 038 6747 

ART ICHOL 2015

Contents 

Director’s Note 

Ambica Beri 

Editor’s Note 

Gopika Nath 

The Residency 

The Album 

Fana 

Arshiya Sethi 

The Poet’s Eye 

Sudeep Sen 

Renewal of Spirit 

Shalini Jaikaria 

The Photographer’s Brush 

Bandeep Singh 

The Story Teller 

Sapna Bhatia 

Detour to Kutch 

Maggie Baxter 

Poetics of Passion 

Bhavana Sabherwal 

Chasing the Sunset 

Amitabha Bhattacharya 

The Furnace at Uchhehra 

Gopika Nath 

The Album 

The Making of Ichol 

The Album 

I Want to Dream 

Ambica Beri 

Gift of Time 

Suraj P Subherwal

Contents 

Scavenger’s Trick 

Narayan Sinha 

Kuch Unkahi 

Salamat Khan 

The Silent Heroes 

Aditya Beri 

Beyond Imagination 

Anshuman Beri 

The Album 

Maihar Archives 

The Album 

The Ceramic Centre 

Kiln Gods 

Gallery Musings 

March 2015 to March 2016

Director’s Note 

Dear friends, 

It is with great joy that I bring to you, this first volume of the Art Ichol Journal. 

Art Ichol is my vision for a world class multi-arts centre; a dream that came with a will of its own 

and became my purpose and driving force for the last three years. On hindsight, it seems to have 

followed a logical path, drawing from my life events, endeavours and things as they unfolded. Art 

Ichol is designed to provide facilities and an environment for artists, writers and other creative 

individuals to excel in. It is my tribute to those great artists and people who influenced my life. 

I envision Art Ichol as a cultural reservoir for legacies to be left behind in; where people will be 

remembered by the creative work they did here, for generations ahead. 

Art Ichol has been designed as a meeting ground for ideas and a space for imagination to flourish. 

There is enough room in the world for practicality and functionality, but what of our dreams? 

Whether you are a writer, photographer or film maker, Art Ichol is blessed with an environment 

that inspires the impossible. It is not merely a visual arts centre but a commune for all creative 

fields. I hope to see shared creativity, and multi-dimensional works of art born through the interdisciplinary 

dialogues we encourage at this centre. Yes, Art Ichol is about grand aspirations and 

dreams. Isn’t that where our countless yearnings reveal themselves? 

Over the years, I have invited many artists to work in Maihar, held workshops and met magical 

minds on these grounds. It was only natural for me to build this establishment here. To be able to 

work under open skies, relish the subtle symphonies of nature away from the neurosis of urban life, 

and share this with my friends, colleagues and patrons, has been the biggest blessing of all. More 

and more people should benefit from this space and its inspiring pulse. Looking out from my little 

window in Maihar, I dreamt of sharing it with the whole world!

Editor’s Note 

Art Ichol has been conceived as a centre to nurture the creative spirit. In long hours spent in 

Maihar, away from the buzz of a large metropolis like Delhi or Kolkata, Ambica Beri drew upon 

her experience as gallerist, her engagement with painters, sculptors, ceramicists and other creative 

individuals over the past two decades, to envision a world-class art centre in the heart of rural and 

small-town India. 

Rich in history and lush landscape - from rivers, lotus ponds and mountain-scapes, as well as the 

famed temples of Khajuraho, forest reserve at Panna and tiger safaris at Bandhavgarh, the Art Ichol 

centre lies within easy reach of much natural beauty and an alluring cultural past. 

The inaugural residency of the centre took place in December 2014. It saw the flowering of many 

ideas and the interaction between artists, poets, designers, film-makers and photographers. It was 

an incredibly fertile exchange that affirmed Ambica Beri’s foresight and vision. 

This journal was born out of what she saw unfolding through the eight day residency - the interdisciplinary 

dialogues and passionate, creative responses to space, light, nature and history. It is 

therefore presented as an informal journey of experience. 

All this energy and burgeoning of creative ideas has translated into a visually and experientially 

lush publication. We have Bandeep Singh painting with the lens, as if it were a brush. His images 

are accompanied by Haikus. Sudeep Sen uses the poetic in colourful images and evocative words 

that conjure up the night sky in Maihar. Shalini Jaikaria has translated her experiences, almost in 

the form of a designer’s journal, where many elements that enthralled her are incorporated in a 

multi-layered scarf-design. Sapna Bhatia, the story-teller, fascinated by the making of Art Ichol 

has added this story to her on-line portal www.bringhomestories.com. Maggie Baxter, who joined 

us from Perth in Australia, was busy sketching her minimal line drawings that will eventually find 

their way into the hands of Kuttchi craftsmen to be block-printed and embroidered. I abandoned 

needle and thread for pen and ink and drew after what seemed like centuries. Arshiya Sethi rekindled 

the dancer in her and regaled us with elegant abhinaya at whim, inspired by the stage at 

Ichol or the nostalgia of an era gone by in the Maihar Palace. Amitabha Bhattacharya, whom all 

of us fondly refer to as ‘Dada’ or elder brother, was the gracious lensman who recorded the subtle

nuances of our every gesture and footstep, equally generous in sharing informed tips on lighting 

and other photography techniques. Bhavana Sabherwal, who added her lyrical voice to our musical 

evenings around the bonfire, also shares a behind-the-scene view of watching Art Ichol become 

what it is today. 

The making of Art Ichol has many fascinating stories and a special section has been devoted to this, 

along with a photo-archive of the many artists and potters who have stayed at Maihar. Replete with 

personal essays, photo albums that say more than words often can, photo essays, poems and much 

more, the journal promises to be a treat for the senses - evoking the energy and fervour of creativity, 

which the environment in and around Art Ichol inspired and brought forth.

The Residency

The Album

Arshiya Sethi 

art ichol at night 

photo credit : bandeep singh

Fana 

I had an opportunity to attend a residency at Art Ichol. Most of the other participants 

were from as varied creative streams as photography, fashion design and literature, 

I stood apart as the only scholar and arts manager. This allowed me, after the first hit 

of awe, to assess Art Ichol, its present and future capability, to value and to permit an 

exploration of its potential in my mind. 

Coming from the urban metropolis of Delhi and its whirling pace, artifice and 

compromises; the secure expanse, silence and beauty of Art Ichol allow you to still, 

be yourself, and find your true voice. Periodically, this is necessary for all of us, but 

more so for creative artists. Not being a performing or productive artiste myself, but a 

nurturer and facilitator of the arts and artistic growth, I am well aware of the writer’s 

block, the jammed mind and the de-energizing rut of daily living. It is reflected in 

a creative paralysis and an inability to enthuse. Hell, this had happened to me too, 

turning into a short fuse and burning with a desperate desire to get away. It was 

just then that I got the invitation for the retreat, and am so glad that I was able to 

experience its potential first hand. 

khajuraho 

photo credit : gopika nath 

There are two ways of getting to Art Ichol - by air from Khajuraho or by train to 

Maihar. I came via Khajuraho, allowing me to admire the Apsaras and Salabhanjikas 

carved on the temples’ facade, in their most favourable light - the light of the setting 

sun. As we drove past the Panna reserve forest - home to the Tiger and the famed 

diamond mines, I thought that Khajuraho could well have been the highlight of the 

journey. The road from Panna was dark, and the flanking forest made it more so. 

Miles moved monotonously. 

But suddenly, from the middle of nowhere, Art Ichol loomed up - surreally ablaze 

in the inky darkness. The shock was akin to sighting a UFO landing in the middle 

of nowhere. Quirky, imaginative, creatively designed. Sprinkled with interestingly 

put-together industrial and artistic material, Art Ichol is to be experienced as much 

as it is to be seen. And words cannot do justice to what a unique blend of past and 

present, artistic and mundane, creative and convenient, predictable and shocking 

that is Art Ichol.

Arshiya Sethi 

It has a chhatri and a baoli that date back several centuries. It has cutting edge stone 

and steely, contemporary sculptures. It has a dramatic play of electric lights and the 

incandescent streaming of serene moonlight. It has modern building material and 

scrap, aligned together. It has vast expanse of space and neatly crafted, closely located, 

small individual artistic spaces. 

It also has a small stage dominated by the low hung branches of an aged mango 

tree. Imagine how heady it would be to perform on this stage, especially when the 

Amramanjari is flowering. The stage is sanctified with a bronze sculpture of Baba 

Allauddin Khan, the grand master of Indian classical music who had made nearby 

Maihar his home and trained his son Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, his daughter Annapurna 

Devi and future son-in-law, Pandit Ravi Shankar there. 

maihar band, nal tarang 

photo credit : gopika nath 

In the musical history of India Baba proved to be a genius in many ways. He was a 

great capacity builder. One of the examples of this skill was the Maihar Band, created 

at the request of his patron, the former Raja of Maihar, almost a century ago - out of 

a ragtag group of orphans, post a terrible famine. The band still exists and is probably 

into its fifth generation. Adding to the uniqueness of the band is that it features as 

its centre piece, a one of a kind, most unique instrument in the world, called the Nal 

Tarang - created by Baba himself. It is made from the gun barrels donated to his friend 

and patron the king who was exasperated by the horrors of the World Wars. For almost 

a century these barrels have played life-affirming musical notes rather than spewed 

out life-destroying bullets. Almost instinctively, I responded to the wisdom of this 

thought by breaking into the only art form that I have trained in, which is dance - more 

specifically Kathak. To Baba Allauddin Khan, to his music and the message of pacifism 

that came from these soils; to the curves of the branches of the mango tree and the 

arches of the chhatri. Responding to the suddenness, drama and creative impulsiveness 

of Art Ichol, my hands rose in salute. My feet beat a celebratory tattoo, and my body 

pirouetted in the age-old Sufi expression of ‘fana’. 

Dance was to be the subtext of my six days here. Whether in Maihar, home to a 

Shaktipeeth and named after Goddess Sati’s necklace or haar that fell there, or in the

photo credit: tanya dutt 

Fana

Arshiya Sethi 

stage at art ichol 

photo credit : bandeep singh

Fana 

Devi Sharda temple, which one reaches by travelling a cool ropeway now and not 

climbing those hundred steps that are still to be seen, as you ride a hundred feet above 

them, or in ‘Amariya - The Writers’ Retreat’ which is located on the bend of a small 

river that finds mention in the Ramayana - dance was my instinctive response to the 

setting. Much to the surprise of the group I was with, and often to their questions 

about this facet of my being – unknown to most, even those who knew me. 

I was astonished myself - at what was happening, for I hadn’t danced for nearly 

twenty-seven years. But something was pulling it out of me. Something had turned 

on a switch which had been kept off, far too long. I was excited, yet I was quiet. I was 

visiting my centre again. This is what the residency at Art Ichol did for me. 

Once back, I am more predictable and, not unexpectedly breaking into a spontaneous 

dance, every now and again. But, I know that I can. That dance is still a-kindle within 

the depths of my being, is enough to keep a smile flickering on my lips. 

As an arts manager, I know that Art Ichol has the potential of growing from a centre 

of individual salvation, such that I experienced personally, to creating a community 

- the beginnings of which I also saw unfolding before me. And eventually, I also see 

this Arts Centre serving as a nexus for shared creativity. But, whatever it is that we 

can imagine or visualise at this point, it is only and only just, the tip of the iceberg of 

potential I foresee here. 

arshiya at maihar palace 

photo credit : amitabha 

bhattacharya 

Arshiya Sethi is a Scholar, Activist, Artiste, Media personality 

Administrator and Cultural Visionary. Dr. Sethi has been the Executive 

Director of the annual Delhi International Arts Festival. She set up the 

Kri Foundation as a progressive link between the practice, management 

and scholarship of the arts and, in promoting a developmental agenda. 

Website: www.krifoundation.org

Sudeep Sen

The Poet’s Eye

Sudeep Sen 

Under Maihar Night Sky 

Desire makes everything blossom; 

possession makes everything 

wither and fade. 

— Marcel Proust 

We are all lovers, that’s how we meet. 

— A. V. 

Angular sparks shoot light — 

an embedded stone pierced 

on your peach-wheat skin 

glints — a gem nestled in 

the soft cleft between 

your lower lip and curve 

of your little chin. Ankur V’s 

nighttime words visit us: We are 

all lovers, that’s how we meet. 

It is that love for love, 

love for life, for words 

crafted as exquisite pieces, 

love for yearning 

to want to live, to create, 

to thirst for ever more. 

A hug turns to a kiss, 

a kiss to another shy kiss, 

kisses to deep touch —


to desire 

blossoming in the night’s 

thick bracing air. 

Then, like a unexpected 

passing train, all is left 

aborted with a knife-slice — 

a sudden flash of thoughts 

of your past loves — 

loves that soured, perhaps. 

In this courtyard’s horseshoe — 

the air is full of wine-lipped 

fragrance, of raat-ki-rani 

and jasmine, of prayers calls 

that affirm love’s gem-glint, 

love that is natural 

as an age-old friendship. 

Nearby, muezzin cries 

merge with temple chants 

with Gurudwara prayers, 

with constant clatter of tracks — 

fast trains hurrying past 

Maihar Railway Station 

that lie publicly 

beyond this private

Sudeep Sen 

secret garden. The walls 

here cannot hold all the dust 

accumulating ceaselessly 

in spite of the cleaner’s 

broom that repeatedly trace 

sweeping alternating arcs — 

broom-handle 

in her calloused hands, 

map loves she could not 

hold on to, in her own life. 

But love, like all lovers, 

is how we shall meet. 

Do not fear the power 

of lust that keeps you 

from belonging. 

Perhaps your gemstone’s 

hot white-light will spark 

longing to unfreeze. 

Under Maihar’s dusty 

cold night sky — We are 

all lovers, that’s how we meet.

The Poet’s Eye

Sudeep Sen


Abandoned Gods 

Sindoor-haldi smeared, 

revered by village hands — 

abandoned Maihar gods 

come alive, momentarily. 

Hibiscus, marigold, 

marry fervor, devotion — 

giving weather-eroded 

broken deities, a new 

moss-laden life — 

a fleeting finery. 

Redolent organic colours 

leak, seep, merge; 

erased by errant rains — 

flower-petals desiccate, 

wither in scorching heat. 

Whispered prayers, 

lingering fingers, embalm — 

sculpting stones anew.

Sudeep Sen 

Indian Dessert 

Clumps of wet-smoke simmer in the pan, and slowly 

lift to caress the outline of your breasts 

as you cook, stirring spices in carrot, milk, 

and cream — ingredients that conjure 

recipes of hunger and passion. As you melt 

sugar and butter and gently stroke 

flakes of grated almond-shavings, 

more clumps of perfumed smoke permeate through 

the silk of your shirt — now transparent in heat — 

painting the outer circle of the nipples 

to a hardened edge, tasting the sweet 

skin, the surface of the crinkled base, 

to a creamed mouthful of untampered delicacy.


Sudeep Sen is an award winning poet, widely recognized as a major new generation 

 

featured in major international anthologies and he is the editorial director of AARK 

ARTS and the editor of Atlas. As a photographer and graphic artist, his work is part 

of many professional print portfolios, magazine and newspaper pieces, book jacket 

covers, private and public collections including the Hindu, Deccan Chronicle, New 

Indian Express, Swagat, Gallerie, Biblio, Prairie Schooner, Molossus, World Literature 

Today, Indian Design and Interiors, and others. Website: www.sudeepsen.net

Shalini Jaikaria


I belong to the garment industry. It is an industry that is fickle, with an insatiable 

appetite for novelty and all things new. Each season, our clients want to be wooed 

with new styles, new textures, new colours and newer and newer stories. 

In this never ending search for the new, I often find myself at the end of the road and 

feel that I have nothing more to say. In moments like these, it is nature and solitude 

that renew my perspective, giving my creative abilities a new lease of life. For me, 

Maihar translated into all of this. 

The Art Ichol residency offered comfortable living, surrounded by lush green, 

a riverside, an uncluttered, clean blue sky with awesome, vibrant sunsets. Alas, 

I never woke up early enough to witness the sunrise. Located in the heart of India, 

the landscape is dotted with temples, sculptures, chhatris and baolis, which spring up 

in the middle of cultivated fields in quaint and colourful villages. Maihar itself is an 

industrial town with mines and cement factories that stand out of the landscape like 

machines descended from an alien planet. 

But, what was really unique about this residency was to be able to interact with people 

from different creative fields. Each of us came with our own perspectives. Sharing of 

views accelerated the design process and the time spent here became a fertile ground 

for developing new ideas. 

I often say that we remember our past by our experiences and the feelings they evoked 

in us. The artwork that I created - a scarf design, is a visual documentation of how the 

Maihar experience has been etched in my mind. 

The bungalow we stayed in lies in close proximity to the Maihar Railway Station. Often, 

in the still of night, I would hear the trains and travel with them into a journey of my 

own past. The vintage bungalow, with its high ceilings fans, old electrical switches and 

sunny courtyard set the stage for revisiting my carefree past: those days of reckless 

abandonment - no targets to touch, no children to bring up and responsibility per 

se. The ‘Khaprael Kothi’ at Ichol has beautifully designed interiors which are also


inspired by these trains. Railway lamps have been 

creatively turned into chandeliers, old machines 

transformed into table stands. The railway-platform 

clocks, notice boards, railings and old coach handles 

seamlessly becoming part of the contemporary decor. 

All reminding me, nudging me gently, to revisit the 

purpose of this journey of life. 

The journey to Maihar commenced with a visit to 

the Khajuraho temples. We were fortunate to see 

them against the light of the setting sun. At some 

level I would say that this journey had a lot to do 

with temples. Every day we would visit a new temple 

in and around Maihar. They were scattered all over 

the countryside. Most plundered and in ruins, but 

eloquent reminders of our cultural and historical past. 

I enjoyed photographing them - looking through the 

camera lens at different times of day, in the shifting 

rays of the sun. En route to the temples we would 

often pass villages and I noticed how the villagers 

painted their houses in all hues of the rainbow - in 

pinks, orange, blues, greens and violets. I remember 

one particular incident on our way to the Rampur 

Plateau. We crossed a prachin [old] Temple which 

had been carelessly re-created with brick and mortar. 

The inner rooms were barren and had a high ceiling, 

saffron graffiti and windows opening to the northern 

sky. Suddenly the environment transformed into a 

photography tutorial on ‘Rembrandt lighting’, and all 

of us clicked in gay abandonment. 

Maihar Scarf


It was thanks to Dada [Amitabha Bhattacharya] and Bandeep Singh, the professional 

photographers in our group, graciously sharing their expert tips on photography that 

made this residency all the more special for me. 

Then there was this old Maihar Palace that we visited. Though dilapidated, it was in the 

process of being renovated into a hotel and still held secrets of its former magnificence, 

reflected in small details like the decorative tiles, carved ceilings and broken, stained 

glass windows – all of which had innumerable tales to tell. I was fascinated by the tiles 

and have used them as a running border on one side of the scarf. 

tiles, maihar palace 

photo credit: amitabha 

bhattacharya 

One of the fondest memories I have of the residency is of the evening when the Maihar 

band came to play – a personal concert right there in the bungalow courtyard. All of us 

listening were seated on the edge of the courtyard with the lawn between the band and 

us, listening to the soulful music against the backdrop of the arches, roof and garden 

decorated with the flickering light of candles. Against this backdrop was the setting 

sun. The band’s performance was followed by our nightly session of spirits around 

a bonfire. This evening Sapna, Bhavana and Gopika took the mood forward singing 

songs from old Bollywood films. 

Towards the end of the residency we went on a safari to Bandhavgarh. We had to wake 

up really early, at the crack of dawn, on a cold December morning. This was really 

tough but high in anticipation of sighting a tiger, we bundled ourselves with blankets 

and hot water bottles and braved the chill. However, we were disappointed. Not only 

did we not see the much awaited tiger, we missed her by a whisker. My mood was 

sullen, inwardly questioning the unfairness of it all, when suddenly I decided to follow 

Bandeep and Dada on a photography excursion. And how the mood was transformed 

by the lotus garden, located close to our Tree-house resort! 

photo credit: amitabha 

bhattacharya 

Seeing Bandeep’s passion for the flower, I was tempted to follow him into the pond 

but hesitated. I was sceptical about what kind of photos one would get at high-noon, 

with the sun’s harsh light on the dark and dirty water. But, as Dada and Bandeep 

knowledgeably put it: “every light is great light…it opens up the possibility of seeing

photo credit: amitabha bhattacharya 

Renewal of Spirit

Shalini Jaikaria


the pond differently”. I also realized that I am ever changing - bored with my last 

clicked image and the pond too was ever changing with the ever-moving sun’s light, 

such that I happily spent the next four hours, waist-deep in dirty, muddy water. 

And I repeated the same exercise the next morning, in an equally mucky lotus 

pond, behind the bungalow in Maihar. 

Another cherished memory I have of the residency was of the time we spent at 

‘Amariya -The Writers’ Retreat’. We spent the day lazily sleeping on the banks of 

river Tamas, observing how we could see reflections on the water, on the leaves of 

the mango trees. It was a sunny day but with lots of clouds. When evening came, 

the rays of the setting sun were seen from behind each and every cloud and the 

water body reflected the sky back ever so evocatively. Together they orchestrated 

an unbelievably beautiful, stupendous sunset. The trees, the birds and each one of 

us, stood still - rendered mute by the spectacular beauty unfolding in front of our 

eyes - spectators to a great performance. And then as we walked, literally chasing 

the sun, we walked up from the idyllic banks of the lazy Tamas to encounter the 

regular hum drum of small-town life. As cars, bicycles and trucks sped past us 

on the new bridge we had just walked under, crossing the river by foot, just a few 

moments ago. The vehicles and their passengers in their hurry, were alas oblivious 

of the mesmerizing theatre of light that we had just witnessed. 

chandelier in khaprael kothi 

photo credit: srimallya maitra 

Each night, after our adventures in and around Maihar, we’d have a ‘show and tell’ 

session where each participant shared their work and perspectives on their art. 

I was particularly enthralled with Bandeep’s presentation on the Indian nudes. He 

had used the Indian purankalash [pot] as a metaphor for the body as a vessel of life, 

birth and ego. The next day we happened to go to Uchhehra where defective, old, 

brass vessels from all over India are collected and smelted into new pots. For hours 

they are baked in the heat, cleansed of all impurities to give the metal a new lease 

of life. I witnessed this process from a spiritual space which made it all the more 

enjoyable.


I plan to visit Maihar 

again because I relish the 

transformation that took 

place. The lush gardens, lazy 

riverside and warm hospitality, 

have opened up many new 

perspectives with which I now 

view life and my designing 

process. The garments and 

embroideries that I create at 

Geisha designs will never be the 

same again. I look forward to 

Maihar casting its spell on me 

once again - renewing me and 

my creative instinct – not unlike 

the pots at Uchhehra – giving us 

a new lease of life.


Shalini Jaikaria is an award winning fashion designer who runs ‘Geisha 

Designs’ along with fellow designer Paras Baroliya – clothes that 

personify beauty with ultra-feminine élan and beauty. Their Label 

currently retails in more than 80 high-end stores across India, South 

East Asia, The Middle East, U.S.A, Europe and South Africa. Get more 

on Geisha designs at www.geishadesigns.com

Bandeep Singh 

Grass, Bandhavgarh National Park

Tree, Bandhavgarh National Park 

The Photographer’s Brush

Bandeep Singh 

Trees melt into ink 

Ink into more trees 

Ripples. 

Ripples, Amariya


Branch mudras rising 

 

A live performance 

Trees at Rampur Plateau, Maihar

Bandeep Singh 

^mJVo Mmoa H$s JR>ar 

Am_ H$s S>m{b`m| na {Va J`r 

g~ Ae{\©$`m± {~Ia J`t 

Sunset over river Tamas, Amariya


Safari season 

Eyes, straining, intense, eager 

Blinded by the tiger 

Safari track, Bandhavgarh National Park

Bandeep Singh 

Untitled 1 from Maihar


Untitled 5 from Maihar 

Formerly Photo Editor of India Today, Bandeep Singh is currently working 

as Photo Editor of Fortune Magazine (India Edition). His images have been 

published in numerous reputable publications such as Time, India Today, 

The New York Times, Business week and Forbes. Singh’s personal work is 

 

 

genres ranging from documentary to portraiture, eroticism and conceptual 

still-life photography.

Sapna Bhatia 

maihar band 

photo credit: bandeep singh


Growing up in Rajasthan, I was raised on stories. There were people who 

communicated in stories, there were people who told stories and there were people 

who were stories. This early exposure to story-telling laid the foundation for my 

future calling. I worked as a broadcast journalist in India, but more so in England. 

Currently, one of my projects is ‘Bring Home Stories’. It is a story-telling brand that 

I run with my business partner, Paul Liptrot, who is an artist based in U.K. Bring 

Home Stories is an online platform for stories about people, places, inspirations and 

experiences. Our primary medium is video, where each story unfolds in a short, 

film format. It’s the people who make each story unique – they elevate the narrative 

with the rich tapestry of experience and subtle emotions conveyed through body 

language, gesture and those fine intonations of the unspoken, which the video 

format is especially designed to record. How do we choose these people? It’s simple: 

they should connect with us at an emotional level. Call it editorial liberty, but it 

really does boil down to that bond or emotional impress made in the first meeting. 

One such bond was made with textile artist Gopika Nath when Kathryn Myers, 

Professor of Art at University of Connecticut – Storrs, guest-interviewed Gopika 

for Bring Home Stories. I was just a ‘fly on the wall’ experiencing the chemistry 

between Gopika and Kathryn and getting mesmerised by Gopika’s story of her 

work with needle and thread. And then, Gopika talked to me about Ambica Beri’s 

initiative in Maihar, inviting me to participate in a brief residency. I first met 

Ambica in Delhi and was enthralled by the story of this woman who started Gallery 

Sanskriti in Kolkata, twenty-five years ago, between managing a family and all the 

social roles and responsibilities being a woman in India imposes on one. 

When Ambica speaks, ‘simplicity’ is the key element of her conversations. 

Everything just seems to fall into place effortlessly. Yet, when one looks at the work 

she has done and achieved, her career landmarks through all kind of odds; it seems 

as though these grand tasks must have been a chore. But, the simplicity with which 

she conveys the process makes you wonder – was it really that easy or is she made 

of material other than what the rest of us human beings are made of? 

candlelit performance by 

maihar band 

photo credit: gopika nath

Sapna Bhatia 

photo credit: srimallya maitra


I was intrigued. I wanted to get to the bottom of this story. It seemed to be a story of 

much more than just someone setting up an art centre in the middle of rural India. 

Ambica’s story had enormous inspirational value for the way that all of us should 

aspire to live. Her faith in the divine and apparently casual nonchalance embodies a 

quest for challenges and a passion for excellence, which I found enviable. 

In Maihar, I spent most of my time with Ambica, weaving in the various elements 

that make up her story. The quality of sound when recording outdoors is always 

complicated. I recall our interview at ‘Amariya - The Writers’ Retreat’, which is 

on the banks of a sleepy river with village life around it. After I’d asked Ambica 

just a couple of questions, a herd of sheep joined us and bleated and bleated, in a 

seemingly unending chorus. Ambica with all her influence in the region could not 

send them away. So, as we waited, we talked and bonded. Finally, after the sheep 

had finished their lunch and departed, we found a blissful ambience for the perfect 

interview. 

photo credit: gopika nath 

Maihar itself has so many stories; there are ruins that make you wonder about its 

history. There are people like old trees and there are old trees like people. Then there 

is the legacy of Allauddin Khan in the shape of the Maihar band - a fifth-generation, 

resilient band whose music evokes the aural nuances of the region. I wanted to capture 

the band on video but they were busy. So, we came up with a plan. Ambica informed 

them that a foreign crew was visiting and the Australian producer would like to film 

them. I requested Maggie to look unimpressed and appear to give me some directions 

while filming. She graciously obliged. I had wanted to create an old-world charm as 

the setting for the band to perform in, when they played at the Maihar Bungalow. 

So, I procured two hundred candles to be placed on the roof and everywhere around 

the stage that had been created for the band to be seated on, during the concert. It 

was Amitabha Bhattacharya, the ‘dada’ [elder brother] of the group who generously 

helped with this arduous task.

Sapna Bhatia 



When the Maihar band played it was truly magical to see hundreds of candles gently 

flickering in the evening breeze, their light growing sharper as the sun’s rays set. The 

deep and soulful music of the band, played from the compositions of their founder 

Ustad Allauddin Khan, evoked the melancholy of the sunset and its promise of 

another day. It was a special moment for me and one that captured the aura of Art 

Ichol. 

There are many ways that you can view Art Ichol. It is an art centre and has immense 

potential for creativity at many levels. To have envisioned and constructed a 

world-class facility in the midst of rural and small-town India is an unparalleled 

feat. But for me, Art Ichol is the beautiful gift of an architect father to his daughter 

and vice-versa For Ambica there couldn’t have been another architect as she has 

been a fan of her father’s work since that day in 1972, when she returned home 

from boarding school in Dalhousie to find their home in Delhi completed. This 

house was not just unusual but built on different levels in an extraordinarily 

creative way. In their teens, Ambica and her friends were truly fascinated, and 

for Ambica this enchantment remained. So, when the time came to build her 

dream art centre in the village of Ichol, she sought the offices of her eighty-four 

year old, much retired father. He says that this project of Ambica’s gave him yet 

another lease of life. He came to Maihar and virtually lived there for three years, 

first translating her vision into a blueprint and then moving brick and mortar to 

turn her dream into reality. 

Sapna Bhatia is an International journalist and a global media 

executive. She has worked in India as an Anchor/Correspondent for 

Zee News and in England with CNBC Europe, APTN and Al Jazeera 

English. Her company TV News International provides video content 

to International Broadcasters. Some of the documentaries made by her 

company have received critical acclaim including an Emmy nomination. 

She is an MBA and has a Masters in International Journalism from 

City University in London. Sapna has recently started a city inspired 

storytelling and design portal: www.bringhomestories.com

Maggie Baxter 

water’s edge (ideas and sketches) 

 

photo credit: amitabha bhattacharya


There weren’t any sheep contentedly grazing but still I would describe Maihar as 

bucolic. Idylls are more often the experience of the visitor rather than the local, 

but places and spaces around the Art Ichol residency were, for me, idealistically 

picturesque and serene, especially compared to the arid scrub (albeit sheep and goat 

filled) of Kutch - my regular India haunt. 

There was the languid day of perfect winter warmth sitting on thick grass at ‘Amariya 

- The Writers’ Retreat’, absorbing the quiet stillness of the barely flowing River 

Tamas, with the calming aural backdrop thud of clothes being rhythmically washed, 

while I drew rushes and reeds from the water’s edge. What could be more perfect? 

Answer: the sunset infusing the dark green water with red, orange, pink, yellow. 

The photographers in our group were in a state of frenetic, precariously balanced 

brinkmanship, on top of the riverbank as the light changed second by second. The 

evening before, the blush was subtler - over an equally tranquil lake edged and strewn 

with a delicate, irregular mesh of decaying plant matter. 

rushes at amariya 


On the final day, those of us that went did not want to leave the Rampur plateau 

with its picture-perfect vista of dense forest vegetation softened by winter mist. We 

accessed the plateau through temple chambers in which the natural light was perfect 

for photographic portraits of Tanya, Shalini, the local temple boy and me. All of us 

willing models. 

Luckily, to ensure that we were not completely sucked into an out of control vortex 

of Arcadian cliché, Maihar also surprises with micro landscapes of flat, craggy stone, 

deconstructing temples, limestone quarries, dust filled industrial stone-crushing, and 

the intense heat and fire of melting and re-forming old pots and utensils. 

The photographers had the advantage capturing numerous permutations of each 

of these and any other scenario that triggered their imagination, in a flash and a 

click, while I developed a serious bout of camera envy. In spite of always being highly 

critical of out-of-focus, misty photography peddled as ‘interesting’ and ‘artistic’, I now 

find myself in this position, courtesy of an iphone not quite equal to the photographic

Maggie Baxter 

ichol bliss, amariya 



demands I imposed on it. I am still mentally processing how, almost formless shots 

of foundry fire, stone crushing white dust, and ambiguous reflections in water that, in 

spite of myself I find I quite like, can be translated into other art outcomes. 

More commonly my artwork is strongly linear and I begin all major series of works, 

whether textiles or not, with drawing. In this Maihar was a reflective experience in 

more ways than one. The residency provided the opportunity for the meditation of 

pen flowing on paper without pre-determined outcome, of not knowing exactly where 

the mark making will go– even though if true to form it will be to block designs for 

printing. Water is a recurring theme in my work. In Western Australia where I live, the 

ocean is fast moving with strong rips and tides and large frothy, white surf. Around 

Maihar, river, lake and pond water are slow or still, fringed with intertwined nets of 

rushes and reeds, surface arrangements of water plants and perplexing reflections of 

stone quarry stratification. 

As a people person what I loved most about the residency was meeting other artists. 

The evening ‘show and tell’ sessions in which we shared our work were inspirational: 

listening to Sudeep’s poetry; watching Arshiya’s body become fluid as she danced; 

enjoying Shalini’s exquisitely detailed couture dresses; absorbing the technical and 

aesthetic excellence of diverse photographic styles spontaneous or pre-determined; 

documentary or abstract. Everyone generously shared their knowledge, their ideas 

and most of all their friendship. The prospect of on-going creative relationships and 

collaborations is exciting and joyful. 

Comradely sharing does of course come more easily after being served excellent 

Australian wine before dinner, sitting around an open fire chatting, laughing, and 

singing everything from Abba to Bollywood film songs. Art Ichol provided a very 

supportive environment in which we were thoughtfully and generously taken care 

of from the moment of landing in Khajuraho to arriving back in Delhi and, let’s be 

honest we all like being a bit spoilt. What a pleasure to have the Maihar Band, the only 

orchestra in India that uses traditional instruments brought in to play for us (potential

Maggie Baxter 

water’s edge (maihar), charcoal, conte crayon and acrylic 

 

photo credit: robert frith


opportunity for interaction with 

musicians in residence as well as 

artists and writers?). I have lost count 

of the times I have travelled to India 

but for uninitiated overseas artists 

for whom the country’s sensory 

overload can be confronting and 

confusing, Art Ichol’s caring and 

reassuring environment will be 

especially welcome. 

Working with Indian textiles was one 

of those things that just happened in 

my life without much forethought or 

planning and my original art training 

was in sculpture and photography. 

With the excellent facilities at Art 

Ichol for welding, casting and carving 

it is high time, Ambica told me, to get 

down and get dirty again with clay, 

stone and iron. It’s tempting, really 

tempting - but those photographers 

managed to get under my skin and 

I know I have to cure that bout of 

camera (and skill) envy. When I get 

back to Maihar, it will be clutching a 

really good digital SLR camera and 

hopefully, a sufficiently proficient 

skill set to produce something 

far more pictorially eloquent and 

evocative than I did with that iPhone. 

May it come soon.

Maggie Baxter


water’s edge (maihar), charcoal, conte crayon and acrylic 

 

photo credit: robert frith 

Maggie Baxter is a textile artist, writer, independent dent 

curator, and public art 

 

 

particularly to Kutch, in Gujarat, where she maintains a textile t arts practice that 

 

 

has written for many national arts journals within Australia. Her book on 

contemporary Indian textiles - ‘Unfolding’, published by Delhi 

based publisher 

Niyogi, is soon to be released.

Amitabha Bhattacharya


As one of the eight-member group, invited for the inaugural Art Ichol Residency at 

Maihar, in the first week of December 2014, I found the experience exhilarating and 

creatively satisfying. Our itinerary had been meticulously planned. A lot of thought 

had gone into this. All of us stayed in a spacious, old-world, multi-arched, neocolonial 

bungalow, home to our hosts Ambica and Sanjiv Beri. Every day we visited 

interesting, picturesque and some historically significant places. The sumptuous 

and varied menus for breakfast-lunch-dinner, the pre-dinner addas with everyone 

singing around a bonfire and post-dinner presentations, each night, by members of 

the group, all added up to create an experience I will remember and reminiscence 

over, for a long, very long time. The zillion pictures that I took each day, capturing 

emotion and experience, vistas and vantages will be cherished. And, these images will 

certainly aide my reminiscences of this residency. 

The untamed, natural beauty contrasted with an undulating, cultivated, lush green 

expanse, overlooking the tranquil water body at ‘Amariya – The Writers’ Retreat’, is a 

sight to behold. A luxury tent with all amenities for a fruitful day-time stay, including 

power points for laptops et al, creates the ambience and practicality for a lazy day 

of musing and working with convenience and comfort. The lovely day-long picnic 

which all of us enjoyed at this picturesque locale, on the banks of the mythological 

river Tamas was planned with a lot of care. It is a dream location for all creative people 

where the silence of the river’s unsung music is food for the soul. 

All of us, including the Beris, some of their guests from Kolkata and Ambica’s 

young and ebullient assistant Tanya, reached Amariya around mid-morning. I was 

mesmerised by what I saw. After drinking in nature’s beauty, while most of us basked 

in the warmth of winter’s generous sunshine and chatted, Arshiya danced, Bhavana 

sang and Bandeep drew some large calligraphic drawings. Maggie soaked in the sun 

and meditatively watched the water flow, while comfortably ensconced in the lone 

hammock, suspended from the branches of a sturdy mango tree that leaned into the 

river, as if thirsty for a sip of her waters. Gopika retreated inside the ‘tent’. We thought 

she had gone to sleep or something, but she emerged a couple of hours later with a 

pen and ink drawing of the inside of the tent, its decorative panels transposed, with 

images of the fish she had nibbled at while drawing.



Post our appetizing lunch of fish, freshly caught from 

the river and cooked on location, it was siesta time. 

However, after a while, Bandeep, Shalini and I decided 

to cross the water and walk to the opposite bank. We 

had seen some men washing clothes and walking 

across that particular area seemed quite manageable. 

Gopika had warned us it was deeper and trickier than 

it looked and suggested we take a local hand along. But 

we were confident that we didn’t need any help. We 

soon discovered that it was quite a daunting task and 

were relieved that Ambica had insisted on us not going 

without her trusted help Barkat, who is the caretaker at 

Amariya. The riverbed was treacherously slippery, with 

moving water running over our feet, every tentative 

step of our way. With a large stick in one hand and the 

other hand reaching out to Barkat, all three of us finally 

crossed the river and climbed onto the other bank with 

a sigh of relief, congratulating ourselves for having 

made it without a dunking in the river. It is a sluggish 

river so thankfully we were saved the ignominy of this 

wetting. Surveying the scene along the river we were 

kept busy with our cameras until the sun started to set. 

Reluctant to return the same way, in the fading light, 

one of the cars came to pick us up, via a longish detour, 

over a new bridge. It was actually quite a downer to 

travel back on this bridge after that intimate nature 

walk, because it brought us back to traffic and other 

aspects of town-living we had happily left behind, and 

were not quite ready to embrace its cacophonic chaos 

again. Not yet! 

‘dada’, photo credit: gopika nath



Seated in the SUV we drove back across the bridge and then through a vast, uneven and 

open field, when we suddenly noticed entrancing cloud formations in the sky. The rays of 

the setting sun arching over cumulous, desperate to show us those colourful refractions 

- the last of its fading light. It is rare for us city dwellers to see such an unhindered view 

of land and sky in a single glance. From a photography professional’s point of view, 

especially as a teacher of photography, I am all too familiar with the thumb rule that 

cites shooting photos of sunrises and sunsets as passé, unless spectacularly unusual. 

And there it was for my eyes to behold – a truly spectacular and unusual sunset. Its epic 

magic unfolding before our lenses! We were stopping more than were driving. We just 

had to take pictures and which frame could be missed – none! The magic in the sky 

was unbelievable. At one point I did wonder if this was there today just for us - divine 

intervention for our picnic by the riverside that day. I saw simply amazing colours in 

changing hues of orange, yellow, rust, red, pink, magenta and blue that kept unfolding 

like magical backdrops falling from the sky – constantly transforming in shape, size, 

texture and hue. Shalini, Bandeep and I were like love-struck teenagers, our necks craned 

towards the sky, eyes pasted on the camera viewfinder, running around, experimenting 

with different compositions. As dusk gradually descended on the horizon, I don’t know 

if we were relieved or disappointed because it was as enthralling as it was exhausting 

to keep pace with nature’s ever-creative paint-brush in the sky. I hope the pictures I 

have taken speak for the exceptional beauty I witnessed that evening in ‘Amariya –The 

Writers’ Retreat’ – where I wrote with the lens more eloquently than I ever imagined I 

could, capturing for posterity those spectacular moments - vistas and emotions, I felt 

incredibly blessed to have witnessed that day. 

Winding up the family business of manufacturing Ayurvedic 

medicines after 18 years, Amitabha became a full-time 

professional photographer, specializing in interiors, industrial 

and product photography. Social documentation, wildlife, 

dance, people and places are subjects of special interest to him. 

He has been teaching photography in various institutions for 

over twenty years.




I recall well that day, almost two decades ago, when Ambica - ‘Didi’ to me, asked 

me if I would like to be part of her gallery operations in Delhi. Needless to say, my 

response was in the affirmative and none other ever crossed my mind. Such was my 

connection with her soon after I married her brother Vivek, and became part of the 

family. 

The unspoken bond has just grown and I cherish this opportunity to express all 

that I was witness to in sharing the magic of those innumerable, impassioned 

conversations with Didi, voicing her wish to build an artists’ village sometime in 

her life. Knowing her, I somehow knew she would do it. What might appear surreal 

to the rest of us, she has always had it in her to realize and bring into being. It was 

no surprise then, when she told us of the land she had started acquiring in the 

vicinity of Maihar - the beginning of Art Ichol, as we see it today. 


Things have just flown since the first signs of making an arts centre became clear. It 

has been like a river charting its course along an unforeseen terrain. I have seen the 

proverb, “God helps those who help themselves”, come to life through her steely focus 

and faith in her chosen path. 

Sanjiv Bhaiya, Aditya and Anshuman have stood beside her like anchors, holding 

and letting go, as and when required. Papa, my father-in-law was the obvious choice 

as architect. Didi has always been a fan of his architectural genius. Not just her, we 

all are. His designs are timeless and his precision and detailing unmatched. Papa 

was stationed in Maihar for almost three years and he is now fondly called ‘Papaji’ 

by everyone there. His short, compulsory trips to Delhi were few and then too 

only to silence his daughter’s frequent chiding that he visit his family back home. 

Notwithstanding his longing to meet his grand-daughters in Delhi, his longing to 

return to Maihar and his work there was always more than apparent in his singsong 

pronouncements to us when he said: “Main kal Maihar jaa rahaa hoon!” where 

‘Maihar’ was pronounced with a rising lilt. Here in Delhi, we faced endless queries, 

jokes and jibes at his disappearance and appearance. His long, white beard would 

invariably elicit: “Sadhu ban gaye hain kya?” Ma would get a bit disturbed when


photo courtesy: art ichol


people would repeatedly ask her about his long spells of absence, “Aisa bhi kya bana 

rahe hain?” Nothing fazed him and his passion to build this centre. Actually the 

whole family was involved and for the last three years we have all shared just this 

one intent that Ambica’s ‘Art Centre’ be made. There was always excitement in the 

air. Order this, buy that, Google for this, that and the other, contact him, talk to 

her, do this, go there...........Wow! The energy Didi exudes is remarkable. She has an 

uncanny eye for the artistic and dares to tread the road less travelled. In fact I have 

been witness to how it is that she leads and people follow her. 

In the eyes of the world, she may well be considered a successful entrepreneur, but in 

my eyes she is an artist whose passion drives her to conceive and create magic! She 

was charismatic, spontaneous, benevolent and amazingly unruffled as she went about 

the mammoth task. It takes courage to answer a call. And what a call! 

To have the vision and courage to create Art Ichol in a remote village, in the middle 

of nowhere, is not easy. December 2014 saw the hosting of the first residency at Art 

Ichol. In all the years that Didi has hosted artist camps in Maihar, this was probably 

the first time that we did not have painters, sculptors and ceramists come and stay 

with us. The participating members were carefully chosen by Gopika. The people 

that came together for this residency were a motley group of poets, photographers, 

designers, artists, film-makers and many of them with multifaceted talents who 

inspired and were inspired by everything that we did together. 

The evenings we spent around the bonfire are especially memorable. There was as 

much laughter and camaraderie, as there were discussions on photography and all 

that they saw during the day and more. I remember that afternoon picnic lunch at 

‘Amariya – The Writers’ retreat’ where Arshiya danced as I sang, on those silent banks 

by the river with the sun drenching us with its warmth. I particularly remember one 

of our nightly reveries around the bonfire; as we sat sipping and munching, when 

Gopika set the mood for music and I joined in. Both of us spent many evenings 

singing one Bollywood song after another. Her choice of songs was perfect and she 

sang with such feeling that we could have sung all night. Arshiya was her sporting




self as she broke into her ‘abhinaya’ from time to time. Tanya joined in with Gujarati 

melodies that were interspersed with Maggie’s English songs, followed by Bandeep’s 

Punjabi and Bengali flavours and our guest Upadhyayji’s ghazal. While others sipped 

their preferred poison, the musical masti intoxicated me. 

Whether it was Gopika’s infectious laughter as she doubled, tripled and quadrupled 

pulling Sudeep’s leg with her sore throat and now barely perceptible voice; the 

privilege of listening to Sudeep recite his own poetry; being part of Arshiya’s devoted 

and earnest shaadi shopping for her son’s impending wedding, which felt like my 

own family wedding; the few heart-to-heart exchanges with Sapna and Shalini about 

children and music as we lazed around; the fervour with which Amitabha ‘da’ shared 

his story; or the sweet affection with which Tanya, Arshiya, Maggie and Bandeep told 

me that they would miss me, each with their own reason for doing so, because I was 

leaving a couple of days before everyone else. 

I loved every bit of our outings, jokes-song-dance-poetry-photography sessions. To 

say that I made friends for a lifetime would be an understatement. 

Bhavana Sabherwal is a graduate in music from the University of 

Allahabad. She has also trained in Hindustani Classical Vocal Music, 

under Late Pt. Ramashrey Jha of Allahabad and Shubha Mudgal. 

She is gifted with a beautiful voice, is passionate about music, the 

arts, culture and languages and enjoys interacting with people and 

exploring creativity with children, young adults and all creative 

people. She currently teaches music to children and adults.

Gopika Nath 

Vmå~oH$a H$s ^Å>r _| emobo XoIH$a 

_hgyg H$s`m dmo AmJ 

Omo _‹wPo J‹T>V ahr Wr&


The first time I’d been to Maihar, was a couple of years ago. This small town in 

Madhya Pradesh falls within the Vindhya belt, mid-way, on the highway that runs 

from Khajuraho to Bandhavgarh. I had flown from Delhi to Khajuraho. Being my 

first visit to the temples, I spent most of my stay pondering on what those erotic, 

yogic-postured-sculptures must have meant, for the people who lived at that time the 

temples were built. I did look around Maihar, and also heard Baba Allauddin Khan’s 

famed Maihar Band at practice, early one morning. But the historical and landscape 

richness and subtle nuances of this unusual music didn’t side-step, in my mind, the 

grandeur of Khajuraho. 

Ambica Beri was constructing an art centre and a writers’ retreat and asked me to 

invite some of my creative friends for a residency. Therefore I went to Maihar a second 

time, a year later. Residencies – creativity in an environment removed from the daily 

ritual and space of living have a way of bringing forth ideas that would otherwise not 

really surface. For me, the defining moment came at the end of my ten day stint. This 

time, I didn’t allow myself to get distracted by the temples. While my companions 

were photographing and exploring the curious history of the sculpted poses, aided by 

a well-informed tour guide, I sat on the steps of one isolated temple, built in the later 

period of the Bundelkhand era, and decided to draw. 

The flight from Delhi to Khajuraho via Varanasi had been painful. I had a nasty 

cold, so take-off and landing were excruciating, to say the least. As I was drawing 

the temple in front of me I started putting into perspective the journey and ignored 

things like getting the perspective of the buildings perfectly right, working instead 

with a naive-folksy-style, inspired by Madhubani artists. Before I knew it, the plane 

and temple were merging into one another and three air-plane seats with Amitabha, 

Shalini and me seated on them, with my hands holding my ears in agony, became part 

of the drawing. I enjoyed the freedom of working this way and spent the rest of the 

residency sketching. 

Since professional photographers Bandeep Singh and Amitabha Bhattacharya were 

part of our troupe and Shalini, a serious photography enthusiast had very fancy lenses,

Gopika Nath 



it made better sense to leave the photography to them. 

And what amazing photographs they took! I cannot forget 

that afternoon in Bandhavgarh, when Shalini and I were 

dealing with our disappointment of not sighting a tiger; 

we overheard the photographer duo planning to head 

out to a water-lily pond they had discovered yesterday. 

Shalini, who was by now completely in awe of her newfound 

gurus, followed suit while I decided to freshen up 

and did some ink-drawings instead. But soon, the itch to 

use the camera was getting to me so I went looking for 

them. I found Shalini and Bandeep waist-deep in a dirty, 

muddy pond getting high on the water lilies. It was a sight 

to be seen. Much as I would have liked to have joined 

them inside the pond, I refrained on account of my cold, 

hoping the ‘pros’ would share their loot. 

Sudeep had to leave early so didn’t join us in Bandhavgarh, 

but his poetry and an incident with the local pandit, 

ensured he wasn’t forgotten. Sudeep’s anthology of poetry 

- ‘Fractals’ was yet to be released, but on our second 

evening in Maihar, he read us some poems from this. 

A judge and his colleague from the neighbouring town 

Katni, acquaintances of the Beri’s, joined us that evening. 

In order to make their guests feel comfortable, Ambica 

requested I accompany Sudeep by reading a poem I had 

written in Hindi, inspired by the Besharam ke phool that 

grew ‘shamelessly’ on every roadside in Madhya Pradesh. 

Everything was civilized till Mr. ‘Shaen’ [Sudeep insisted 

on the Bengali pronunciation] decided that, in keeping eping 

with the erotic sculptures viewed at Khajuraho a day 

earlier; it would be befitting to end the poetry-reading 

with some erotic verse. 

photo credit: shalini jaikaria

Gopika Nath 

~oea_ Ho$ \y$b 

ne{M_ _| 

Må~b Ho$ nhm‹S>r Ho$ nrN>o 

T>bVo hþE gyaO 

AmJ Obm Ho$ Mb Xrò 

nya~ H$s {Xem _| 

Amg_mZ Ho$ MmXa no, 

C±Mr _H$m_ Ny>Zo H$s H$mo{ee _| 

Mm±XZr ˜y~ M_H$ ahr Wr& 

BZ XmoZm| Ho$ ~rM 

YaVr Ho$ EH$ g‹S>H$ no 

~«÷mÊS> Ho$ _Ü` àXoe _| 

~oea_ Ho$ \y$b, H$ht no ^r, 

{H$gr ^r hmbmV _| 

{Ib-{IbHo$ 

AnZr amh g_PmZo 

H$s H$mo{ee hma Jò& 

M‹T>Vo amV Ho$ AÝYoao _| 

Mm±X H$s amoeZr 

Cg amñVo H$mo 

C‚mdb Zm H$a gH$s&


He promised us a unique recipe for ‘Gajar ka halwa’, which was a huge hit. Especially 

with Arshiya and Ambica, the grand dames of Punjab, who wanted to add this to 

their repertoire of Punjabi cooking. Feigning complete innocence, we waited in 

anticipation for the promised recipe of this favoured ‘Indian Dessert’ and then 

slipped into helpless giggles as the sonorous voice of the poet recited with deadpan 

seriousness – 

“Clumps of wet-smoke simmer in the pan, and slowly 

lift to caress the outline of your breasts” 

And as he continued, so did the giggles, while Sapna and Maggie, looked on 

incredulous - at the rest of us, helplessly uncontrollable with laughter. But Sudeep 

continued, unperturbed - 

“the silk of your shirt – now transparent in heat – 

painting the outer circle of nipples”, 

Reciting the rest of the carefully crafted poem, he finished with: “to a creamed 

mouthful of untampered delicacy.” 

And everyone doubled up again, as Arshiya naughtily asked: “but where are the 

carrots?” 

I don’t think any of us had been so irreverent at a poetry reading before. It was a first 

for Sudeep Sen too, but he was an amazing sport and took our ribbing with élan. 

The banks of the Tamas, its serene waters didn’t seem to inspire the poet in Sudeep. 

Being more interested in people, he was captivated by a bejewelled chin. But, being a 

photographer too, he spent considerable time capturing the textures around him. His 

photo of an aging pandit doing a yogic posture inside a pond garnered much interest. 

And so impressed were Sudeep and Panditjee with each other that we were all invited 

to Panditjee’s home for tea. As we were leaving Sudeep was seated beside Salamat in 

photo credit: sudeep sen

Gopika Nath


the front-seat of the SUV, while Maggie, Shalini, Bhavana and I occupied the back, 

with plenty of room for another two passengers. 

We had started our journey out of the village, on the narrow mud-road, when Panditjee 

sprung into action, waving and running alongside the car. Salamat slowed the car 

and Sudeep was rolling down the window to speak with him when Panditjee yanked 

the door open, and with one sprightly yogic leap, the white-bearded Pandit jumped 

onto Sudeep Sen’s lap. For the next ten minutes or so, till Panditjee disembarked the 

vehicle, Sudeep’s gaze - intensely concentrated on the road ahead, was an expression 

was of priceless stoicism. Only his bone-stiffened body spoke of the discomfiture. 

The giddy group at the back could barely control our laughter. Thereafter, much to 

Sudeep’s consternation, the mere mention of Panditjee would translate into helpless 

giggles. 

arshiya at the mobile-store 


Arshiya, has a shopping fetish. In Khajuraho, we stopped at a chai-shop on our way 

from the airport to the temples to feast on the packed-lunch Ambica had sent, when 

a mobile store-wala happened to pass by. Before we knew it, Arshiya was busy buying. 

It was the usual stuff available at the local kirane ki dukaan in any city and certainly 

in Delhi, but she said there was never time to do this kind of shopping in Delhi. And 

so, the mobile-store earned well that afternoon. 

But wherever we went, Arshiya shopped. Even when you didn’t think there would be 

anything to spend money on, she found it. Uchhehra had not been on the itinerary 

planned for the residency since Ambica had just recently discovered it herself. She 

casually mentioned a factory about 25km away and everyone, except for me, dashed 

off and had a great time. Especially Arshiya who bought brass vessels for her home 

and to send gifts in, for her to-be-samdhans, at her son’s forthcoming wedding. 

Despite my cold turning bronchial, I didn’t take the prescribed medication and the 

daily dose of rum and hot water at night wasn’t doing as well as the antibiotics would 

have. So I stayed back to loll in the sun. When the group returned, Sapna was keen

Gopika Nath


that I visit and write an article for her site www.bringhomestories.com. Eventually, 

I was commissioned to do a photo essay instead. So when everyone else had left for 

Delhi, I went to Uchhehra. 

I just loved zooming into the blistering furnaces – red hot embers set against the dark 

soot of coal, made for dramatic visuals. As luck would have it, my camera battery 

packed up and wouldn’t recharge. The Tambekars called up a local photo studio 

requesting a loan of their Canon DSLR, for a couple of hours. Waiting for the camera 

to arrive, I had chai and cashews at Harish Tambekar’s office and listened to the story 

of how the brothers had brought the labour and technique of making the ‘Hada’ to 

Uchhehra, from Mirzapur in the neighbouring state of Uttar Pradesh. 

The ‘Hada’ is a brass vessel that is used exclusively in the Vindhyshetra [Maihar 

included]. Though used exclusively in this region, the ‘Hada’ was never made there 

and the Tambekar’s factory is the only one of its kind in Madhya Pradesh. Integral to 

the rituals of gifting at marriages and part of a bride’s dowry, the ‘Hada’ is valued like 

gold. The process of making the ‘Hada’ is quite complex. Not only do copper and zinc 

go through an ordeal by fire before brass is formed, but they endure a lot more heat 

and beating too, before the gleaming gold vessel is sold in the market. 

The metals go through at least four stages of firing in furnaces that are heated at 

varying degrees of 800 to 1200 degrees Celsius. Nothing captured my imagination 

as these did. I was irresistibly drawn to the furnaces, again and again. I squatted, 

leaned, knelt and did whatever was needed to get the right shot without realising that 

my red cape – one that I had been nick-named Red-Riding-Hood for [by the rest of 

the group], was sadly covered in soot – the red and black almost as dramatic as the 

furnaces. I wasn’t happy. 

But, I laughed it off in an incident that followed. I needed to go to the loo and was 

politely escorted to the toilet used by the management staff. I didn’t expect to see just 

a urinal, so asked in surprise - “But what about women?” Imagine my consternation

Gopika Nath 

when I was told to pee on the floor! But, what else could I do? When one’s got to go, 

one has to make do with what is available. I laughed, but as there was no-one from the 

group to share the joke, I returned to the furnaces. And the dirty cape was forgotten. 

Browsing through the day’s endeavour on my computer, I was inspired to consider the 

melting and moulding of the metals in making of the vessel, as evocative of the kind 

of grind we human beings also go through, to come into our own. And, tabulating the 

process for the photo essay, I saw, perhaps for the first time with such clarity, that the 

human relationship with self - enacted through others, is forged with as much angst as 

the melding of copper and zinc - inseparably, as brass. 

A textile artist, art critic, blogger, poet and teacher, Gopika Nath 

is passionate about textiles and is working to redefine the value 

of hand-crafting towards bridging the prevalent art-craft divide. 

Working with needle and thread, she is engaged in evolving a 

contemporary language of embroidery - using thread as a metaphor 

for life. www.gopikanathstitchjournal.blogspot.com

The Hada at Uchhehra 

Again and again 

they’ve been through 

furnaces hot 

Coal embers angry red 

No trace of hard edges 

Their mettle 

a blazing molten lava 

now inseparable copper and zinc 

poured into moulds 

defined 

Then beaten with hammers iron 

Face blackened 

as curious eyes 

scrutinise the contours 

to find a flaw, 

any weakness 

in the coupled being 

But shaved off this soot 

and washed in acidic wine 

togetherness gleamed 

a brilliant gold. 

They weren’t don’t yet 

Held with loving hands 

to be hammered again 

A distinctive design 

was given their brass. 

It’s ordeal by fire 

and brazen forging 

of zinc and copper – 

A dark shadow 

within 

that yellow-golden shine.

The Album

Making of Ichol

The Album

Ambica Beri 


I Want To Dream 

The only things that I recollect being any good at, as a child, were drawing and 

dreaming. I could spend all day with my favoured D’s. I was a lucky child who was 

loved and indulged by both parents for every whimsical want. But like any other girl 

in those days, as my teens came to an end, it was time to marry and ‘settle-down’. 

I moved to a relatively unknown city into a joint family and began a whole new life. 

My two boys Aditya and Anshuman were born and my life effortlessly became more 

and more about others and less about myself. Painting and drawing and those things 

I once enjoyed doing, often seemed like a dream from some past life. 

One day, out of the blue, Sanjiv told me that he had bought a small place in a new 

building on Alipore Crossing that I could use as my studio and start painting again. 

I gave it serious thought and told him that I no longer wanted to paint, but wanted 

to work with artists and open an art gallery. He looked at me in surprise and asked 

me what an art gallery was. Haha! I have never forgotten that moment. Like a 

typical businessman, he wanted to know if this venture would pay for the building 

maintenance and electricity bills. But despite his instinctive response, my husband 

showed a caring sensitivity in giving me the space to do ‘my thing’. Sanjiv and I 

couldn’t be more different from each other. He had no clue about what I was doing 

nor did he pretend to understand art. He just knew he had to do this for me, for my 

sake, and I’m ever-grateful for such a life-partner. 

Even in those early days when faced with multifarious familial responsibilities 

I always dreamed; sometimes despite the responsibilities and more often because of 

them. I have often questioned myself about what gets me more side-tracked, hectic 

reality or mesmerizing dreams? My usual day is frenetic and taken up with endless 

phone-calls, emails, errands, sitting for hours in traffic, meetings and greetings and 

scores of trifling events. It is only when I dream that I feel a sense of calm. I can rest, 

drift and attune to my deeper self. I visualize at great lengths and in great detail all my 

inner desires and goals. I navigate their flow based on the reality of the world and how 

to achieve them on that plane. I let these dreams show me wonders and have realized 

that they do indeed manifest. 


Ambica Beri 



I started Gallery Sanskriti in an eight hundred square-foot space. I had one modest 

yet persistent artist on my side, who like me, was hell bent on getting things going. I 

was a novice in the art world, with no experience or qualification to run an art gallery. 

I didn’t know either artists or art collectors. Hell, I didn’t even know how to write 

a cheque! But I was a quick learner. The gallery made me financially independent 

which opened up a whole new world for me. Through my work I started discovering 

myself - my capabilities and tendencies. This self-discovery is what held me in good 

stead, giving me the grit to take Art Ichol from a day-dreamer’s mind and make it a 

physical reality. 

From that small building space in the early years, Gallery Sanskriti grew. I made 

lasting friendships and learnt a lot from Bikash Bhattacharjee, Shyamal Dutta Ray, 

Dharma Narayan Dasgupta and Ganesh Pyne. I miss them today. I wish I could share 

Art Ichol with them. They were my inspiration and mentors. 

Despite the demands of my work, my children and family remained my priority. 

I made no compromises with the time I needed to spend with my in-laws and parents. 

I feel that any woman who has a family and wants a successful career has to work not 

twice as hard, but ten times harder. I am proud of both my boys. I laugh the most 

when I am with them and evaluate my real success when I see them. 

Twenty odd years after hosting and facilitating national and international workshops, 

interacting with artists, craftsmen and other creative professionals I came up with 

the idea of creating a multi-dimensional residency and art centre in the heart of 

rural Madhya Pradesh. From a ceramic centre within the compounds of my own 

home in Maihar, I dreamt of a space with world-class facilities. It would combine 

my experience as a gallerist with the joy of living and working in a small-town 

environment surrounded by an inspired landscape, to create a centre for the arts and 

crafts. I wanted it to be a place where colleagues, patrons, writers, artists and other 

creative people could share their genius and make great art.

Ambica Beri 



It was no humble endeavour to begin with. I had big dreams for Art Ichol. Bringing 

them to fruition necessitated great physical and mental endurance along with 

ceaseless dedication on my part and that of all those who became involved with this 

mammoth project. Art Ichol cast a spell. It was a vision I had to bring to life. 

Of course there were many glitches that were technical, emotional and practical. 

I stuck on with all my might. I sold my treasured and prized works of art collected 

over many years which I had sworn never to sell. Tough though it was, seemingly 

separate events also came together mysteriously and I could see what they were 

doing was in alignment with my purpose. They carved the path that would enable 

me to build Art Ichol. What I loved most about travelling in the blissful terrain of 

my dream-state was how magnetically and wholly this absorbed me. I was often 

astonished at my own sense of commitment but, I couldn’t have done any of it 

without the whole-hearted support of Sanjiv, my family and a whole community of 

passionate and dedicated people. 

photo credit: srimallya maitra 

It was my aging father who quickly grasped my vision. His expertise in architecture 

turned my dreamscape into a blueprint. In March 2012, at the age of eighty-one, he 

began designing the buildings for Art Ichol. Once construction began, he was onsite 

guiding the workers and checking the quality of craftsmanship, right until the 

last brick was set. His technical proficiency kept in check the aesthetics of the design, 

not allowing for the bizarre and creative to override the practical. Everything, from 

‘The Ceramic Centre,’ to the tent house in ‘Amariya – The Writers’ Retreat’ and the 

expansive sculpture gallery at Ichol, were ideas that he brought to life. In our makeshift 

office under the mango tree at Ichol, both of us worked side-by-side on-site for 

three years. It was my father’s dedication that invigorated him and there were times 

when I found it difficult to cope with his energy and determination. My father was 

an inspiration to everyone involved with this project, and to say that the creation of 

Art Ichol would not have possible without him, is an understatement.

Ambica Beri 



The gifted artist and sculptor, Narayan Sinha, was a blessed discovery for me. I first 

saw his work ten years ago at the Academy of Fine Arts in Kolkata. We kept in touch. 

Once I dedicated myself to building Art Ichol, it struck me that Narayan would be the 

perfect artist to help me design the interiors and over-all look of the place, especially 

‘Khaprael Kothi’. Narayan’s rare ability to give ‘found materials’ a new life is simply 

magical. It was an experience for me to wander around with him in scrap godowns 

and antique markets and see the unfolding of his creative process before my very eyes. 

From the finding of an object to what he was able to create out of it, I loved studying 

what caught his eye and why. Every piece of furniture in ‘Khaprael Kothi’ is an original 

and aesthetic part of Ichol. A fine example of his imaginative sweep is the chimney of 

an abandoned kiln in one of our factories which he converted into a light installation. 

It lifts my spirit every time to switch on the lights when I enter ‘Khaprael Kothi’ and 

see the glow from lamps of brass pots and ship anchors. They illuminate a space filled 

with other marvels. I would also like to mention the diligent and painstaking efforts 

of artists Ramesh Chandra and Anand Kumar who were always at hand and ready to 

execute our creative and sometimes random ideas. 

People I had known a life-time, unexpectedly revealed new skills and volunteered 

their time and energy. Salamat Khan, who was the company chauffeur for forty-five 

years, became my trusted right-hand during the construction. As a local, he knew 

the people and industries and had a talent for foreseeing problems before anyone 

else. Salamat planned and executed vital aspects with swiftness and professionalism. 

He was like a one-man army. And it was Salamat who always stood beside my father. 

I could leave Maihar knowing all would be safe under Salamat’s watch. 

2014 was remarkable year for me and one that saw the first and highly successful 

residency at Art Ichol. My college friend, artist and writer Gopika Nath was the 

curator for this event. She was the only one I thought of when Art Ichol was near 

completion. She has an intuitive eye and an uncanny knack for judging things 

appropriately. I knew she would be able gauge the prospects for this space. And in 

fully recognizing its scope she put together a group of highly talented individuals. It 

was heart-warming to see Art Ichol come alive with the presence of such gifted and 

brilliant personas. My dream was taking shape.

Ambica Beri 



Getting to know such a diverse group of creative people was truly unforgettable. The 

evenings were animated with song, dance and sharing of stories. Each person brought 

their work to the table and we learned about each other’s abilities. It was a sharing of 

minds, memories and magical moments. The group comprised two textiles artists, 

Gopika herself and Maggie Baxter from Perth in Australia. Arshiya Sethi a renowned 

art facilitator joined them along with Shalini Jaikaria, a talented fashion designer. 

Sudeep Sen, a poet who needs no introduction and film-maker Sapna Bhatia, along 

with photographers Bandeep Singh and Amitabha Bhattacharya completed the 

group. Each has left an unforgettable footprint at Art Ichol. Soon after, we organized 

an international ceramic symposium which had potters from Australia, France and 

US, participating along with Indian ceramicists. And there is a lot more to come. 

Art Ichol is to be a benefactor of the creative and their creativity. We hope to sponsor 

five underprivileged creative individuals every year and share our space and work 

with the art fraternity world-wide. We will not fade into dreams even though that is 

where we came from. Art Ichol is as much you, as it is me. It belongs to the world as 

much as it does to me. 

Ambica Beri is the director and founder of Art Ichol, Madhya 

Pradesh and is also owner of Gallery Sanskriti, Kolkota. A textile 

designer by training, she chose to nurture art and artists through her 

gallery and other establishments. She now creates on an altogether

Suraj P. Subherwal 

(1930 - 2015) 

Zgr~m| H$mo {_bVm h¡ g_` 

òhr Vmo XoVr h¢ `mX| 

Am¡a VOwa~m ß`ma H$m && 

- JmonrH$m ZmW

Gift Of Time 

At eighty-four years of age, I am a man who has plenty of experience and time behind 

him but uncertainty regarding the time ahead. And yet, after an active and successful, 

albeit reluctant career as an architect, I also feel that what else is there to give my 

children other than my time. 

As a young boy, I was never really interested in studying and often prayed for some 

rich person to come and adopt me so that I did not have to study. Needless to say, 

that never happened but I’m often reminded of that idea and wonder what my life 

would have been, if that prayer had indeed been answered. I was about eight or nine 

years old when I first came across the word ‘Architect’, written on a name plate in 

our mohalla in Jalandhar. The sign read: ‘Katayal Engineer and Architect.’ I came 

home and asked my uncle, an engineer by profession, what an ‘architect’ was and 

he carefully described the difference between a civil engineer and architect. I didn’t 

really understand all of that but the words he used were fascinating. However, before 

I finally honed into this and took up the profession, I toyed with the idea of going 

to Paris to become a painter and then mid-way through architectural college, I was 

willing to abandon this to play professional football. 

However, when I worked, I worked hard and was awarded the title of ‘Mr. Architecture’ 

in 1952 because of my all round performance. In 1955 I was granted admission to 

study architecture at M.I.T. as well at the Frank Lloyd School of Architecture in U.S. 

but circumstances didn’t allow me to take up those opportunities. I have worked on 

numerous prestigious projects such as the Palace for the King of Nepal and U.S.A.I.D. 

Mission educational projects at Kathmandu among others. And I even designed the 

main altar of the XXXVIII International Eucharistic Congress in Bombay, which was 

attended by His Holiness Pope Paul VI. But, true joy came to me when my children 

were born. Nothing in the world matches the sense of accomplishment felt, upon 

seeing them grow and touch the skies. Being a part of Ambica’s various projects over 

the years has always given me joy, not only to share in her dreams and their success, 

but for the chance it gave us to work together. It gave us time to be with each other.



Gift Of Time 

If I could stand at every random site from morning to sundown, supervising the 

casting of slabs for other people, why couldn’t I do this for my own daughter, my 

pride and joy? So I decided to design and build this Art Centre - her dream project, 

in my own presence. Given my age, the location and lack of accessibility to modern 

amenities, and not forgetting variable climatic conditions, it was going to be a feat all 

around. But, I also knew that if I took it on, I would be able to spend time with my 

daughter. So this time together, was a strong factor in influencing me to take on this 

challenge. The task demanded grit and determination but I knew why I was doing 

this, so we got down to business. 

The first brief given to me was to create a high ceiling with terracotta tiles for the 

roofing, so that the building would blend in with the historic chattri and baoli and 

landscape of cultivated fields leading to the hills in the distance. It was also decided 

to build the structure on a platform. A lot of filling-in of the low land was necessary 

to have a building on a raised platform. We had many things to work around and like 

pieces of a puzzle they had to fit together. 

My problems were many. If on one hand I had capable men, on the other, I was 

working with illiterate and unskilled workers who could not read a drawing. After 

having taught students of architecture in present day IIT, this was a new experience. 

But it was interesting to have people from all strata of society to work with. As it 

was with the team, so it was with the project. The architectural design is based on 

a combination of state-of-art technology as well as traditional practices. We were 

creative with this - using things like VRF air-conditioning and toughened glass on 

one side and then plastering the walls with lime surkhi on the other. Economy was 

achieved by employing innovative methods of construction such as the octagonal 

plate slab in the conference area. This was held up on a twenty-four foot-span using 

only eight millimetre diameter, ‘Tor’ steel bars. This reduced wastage to a minimum. 

Fifty years after I designed the main altar of the Eucharistic Congress at Bombay for 

Pope Paul VI, this job was giving me equal satisfaction.


working in torch light, photo courtesy: art ichol

Gift Of Time 

There were frustrations, but no matter how hard the conditions became, we focused 

only on our determination to get the job done and done well. Checking work in 

progress throughout the day and rectifying defects continuously was necessary. 

Nobody there knew how to construct a layout at site. Diagonals had to be checked. 

Measurements had to be maintained. This was not the norm but, knowing that I was 

dealing with untrained and inexperienced people, I expected it. Some requirements 

cropped up while work was well under progress. We took almost every suggestion 

into consideration. The Painting Room was added nearly two years into the project 

on Gopika’s observation that, sculptors may work outdoors but painters and 

photographers also need a separate studio. Other small changes and additions were 

made along the way. 

Many people have contributed to the success of this project. Mr. Romesh Pangasa of 

Semac designed the RCC Framed structure with a steel roof skeleton and I found in 

Narayan, a very creative designer who could turn inert material into a thing of beauty. 

He is a sculptor, artist, interior designer and space designer all-in-one. He stunned us 

with the works of art that he created from the junk he had bought at rundown Kabari 

shops. 

I had a lot of help undoubtedly, but it was Salamat Khan who was my sarthi. Just like 

Krishna was to Arjun - always on job, ready with solutions, thinking on his feet and 

most of the time, thinking ahead of us. He knew ‘what next’ even before we did. He 

always planned in advance whether it was the need for material, men, machinery or 

even finances. I was amazed to see that a person, with as limited an education as his, 

could maintain accounts as detailed as those handled by chartered accountants and 

possibly also put them to shame. I am indeed grateful to Salamat for his foresight and 

integrity and to Parohaji who contributed day and night to the safety and security of 

people and property. 

I was fortunate to have found the experience of Chatter Singh and Neelkanth for the 

electrical and plumbing work. They just happened to be in the region on consultancies 

from Delhi and were extremely helpful. Several workers gave shape to the Ichol Art



Gift Of Time 

Centre, but the contribution of Mohan for civil work, Munna for shuttering and 

Vishnu for his welding work deserve a special mention. Taking measurements and 

fitting toughened glass at great heights and of odd shapes such as triangles and 

trapeziums, was truly a feat accomplished by Mr. Geet Pabra and his men. But in all of 

this technical stuff I cannot forget Santosh. My day started at 5 am with him bringing 

me my tea. And in the evening I unwound after a day of toil, when Sanjiv offered me 

a drink. What more can a man ask for. For those three years, Maihar was a home away 

from home in every sense of the word. 

After years of labour, when I see Art Ichol standing tall, I am proud, less of my 

accomplishment but more so, of my daughter. She has always dreamed impossible 

things and inspired all of us to help with the task of manifesting them. I remember 

when she was about eight years old and her mother was not with us in Calcutta, I had 

to ensure Ambica didn’t miss her mama too much. So I took her to every Park Street 

restaurant, all the way from Cornfield Road, every day, for breakfast and sometimes 

lunch too. Today, that eight year old is a grandmother and is walking ahead of me. 

What more could a father ask for! 

 

and Architecture, New Delhi, was a Fellow of the Indian Institute 

 

 

 

and Benjamin Polk as well as Chatterjee and Polk in Calcutta, among 

others. Some projects he worked on included the Master-Plan for the 

Rourkela Steel Plant Township; National Library of Burma, Rangoon 

and The Jallianwala Bagh National Memorial at Amritsar. He also 

designed several educational institutes for the Apeejay Group. He

Narayan Sinha 



I first met Ambica Beri in 2005. I didn’t know then that many opportunities would 

come our way to forge a friendship based on mutual trust and admiration. It was after 

my exhibition ‘Devi’ in Kolkata that Mrs. Beri invited me for a workshop to Maihar. 

I can’t forget the sight of her clad in white, as she stood at the railway station. She had 

come to receive me, herself. That day Mrs. Beri became Ambica di for me. It showed 

that her friendship was truly generous and genuine. It was then in Maihar that we first 

spoke about Art Ichol and she suggested I come on board for the project. 

I recall being hesitant as I had problems travelling and other health issues. I was 

concerned whether or not I could handle the travelling and also the on-site and offsite 

work. However, when I saw the chhatri and baoli at Ichol, the hillock and the 

location itself, I fell for its charm. That aside, I realized what this project meant to 

Ambica di and wanted to be part of realizing her vision. She needed the right kind of 

people to build her dream, pull it from its mirage and make it a standing structure. 

I’ve always believed that art should be able to touch the lives of ordinary people and 

that I as an artist should enable it to enrich ordinary lives. This project could be a 

conduit for that. It was envisioned as a place where mixed streams of art would meet 

and provide the platform for all sorts of creative individuals to interact. This was a 

major factor in alleviating the uncertainty and I am happy to have been able to share 

in the making of Art Ichol. 

I travelled with Ambica di to Rewa, Govindgarh Fort, Panna, Khajuraho and 

Bandhavgarh to get a feel of the area so that we could build the art centre in sync 

with local and cultural parameters. Through my travel excursions with Ambica di, 

I discovered the classic palette and essence of Madhya Pradesh. I realized that I had to 

incorporate Indian elements yet be original, inventive but classic, contemporary and 

creative. It had to be a space that could accommodate other works of art and inspire 

future ones. And as Ambica di said, it had to be a work of art in itself. 

The location was in the middle of nowhere so it was felt that the local people would 

need to connect with it. Yet, the art centre would have to make a statement bold 

enough to attract people from all parts of the world. As an artist, I’ve always wanted

Narayan Sinha 



to explore various levels of art-making. Art Ichol gave me these possibilities. Local 

materials were used in new and inventive ways. Existing architectural forms as well as 

heritage values of the region were incorporated into the design. 

Ambica di’s dad, Suraj P. Subherwal was the first and obvious choice as the architect. 

A veteran architect at eighty-four years, with his in-depth experience and boundless 

energy he became our guide. And it was he, who gave Art Ichol the structure we see 

today. I had initially thought of creating a big hall with high ceiling for displaying 

ceramics, paintings and sculptures, but it was Papaji who designed an L-shaped 

structure, which has a mezzanine floor, office space for Ambica di, an artist 

coordinator’s room and multiple conveniences. Drawing inspiration from Khajuraho 

it was decided to build the main building at a height, with steps to reach the top. I felt 

then that it would be impressive to look at and today, I feel vindicated in my stance. 

This building is the iconic Khaprael Kothi at Art Ichol. 

We went hunting to Banaras and Govindgarh for stones, carved pieces, small bricks 

and pillars. We picked up a number of odd objects and whatever crazy stuff that 

caught our fancy. It was tough being on the road so much and scavenging through 

all kinds of material, but it was interesting and funny too - in the way that we looked 

at, collected and restored these objects. When we scouted around the Maihar area, 

in the iron and wood scrap yards, people wondered what we were up to. Ambica 

di belongs to one of the well-known families of Maihar and the locals were puzzled 

upon seeing her at such places. It was tiresome and tricky explaining to them why we 

were purchasing so much junk. We became known to all the kabariwalas in Maihar 

and Rewa. The technical help we got in Maihar was not very skilled and this posed 

a huge problem as they had to be supervised all the time. There were no assistants 

but Ambica di herself was there, for anything and everything. So was Papaji. I have 

been accustomed to having my own way and working independently but here, I had 

to work along with Papaji and his emphasis on practical aspects. But, it was a huge 

learning experience for me because his technical knowledge came in handy, especially 

while executing my rather bizarre ideas. As we worked together, I learned to respect 

him more and more. Above all, it was his approach to people around him which 

taught me to respect my co-workers too. 


Narayan Sinha 



I picked up things from all over India to create the quirky yet harmonious mélange, 

here at Ichol. We scouted for stuff in Mumbai, Delhi, Varansi and Kolkata. Sourcing 

was the toughest part and whenever we felt stuck, we took chai breaks to refresh 

ourselves and went off on our hunt again. Often, after those breaks we’d make small 

discoveries and have little successes. It wasn’t easy to convince Ambica di to go to 

Cochin but I was adamant. I just knew that I would get what I was looking for. Finally, 

she agreed but we found nothing for two days and were very disheartened. Then 

suddenly, we saw a huge metal pipe section from a ship engine, it looked so much like 

a lotus pod to me. We were in the car and passed-by sooner than I would have liked, 

so we turned back to take a closer look. That pipe-section was turned into a round 

table at the café. 

Our local driver in Cochin, Munner, was extremely helpful. He located scrap dealers 

and took us to several scrap yards. He even acted as our security guard. At one such 

yard I felt very creatively inspired as though some source was working from beyond, 

drawing me to these things. At other scrap yards, the dealers were like gundas (goons) 

and I felt responsible for Ambica di’s safety. After all, I had dragged her here. When 

they offered us tea, Ambica di being trusting and friendly drank it, but I was very 

wary and thought something may be mixed in it, so I didn’t dare drink! If something 

were to go wrong, at least I should be around to ensure Ambica di’s safety. In a scrap 

yard in Jew Town we found wooden sculptures, antique pieces and some relics of 

Kerala art. We also met Majnu, one of the biggest antique dealers there. He was very 

helpful and hospitable and helped us long after we had left Kochi. I was convinced 

that he was in love with Ambica di. 

Another transforming aspect about this project was the connect I found between 

art and the Beri family business. Sanjiv da has several crushing plants in his factory. 

I was familiar with some of this as my family manufactures crushing plants used for 

grinding and breaking of stones. One day we went to Sanjiv da’s abandoned lime 

factory in Maihar. Here I saw an old metal chimney and was fascinated by its shadows 

and structure. I was taken by the idea of using this to create a light installation for Art 

Ichol. An old trolley used for transporting stones, became Ambica di’s office desk and,

Narayan Sinha 



a planter. The crushers became moving installations and the graders were transformed 

into an interesting see-through-partition. I liked making this connection between the 

creative concepts at Ichol and the Beri family business. I was in my most creative 

element using the factory scrap, creating contemporary and innovative objects. To 

see the old and discarded come to life is akin to creating magic. 

Often we would work from 9 am to 8 pm and if that was not tough enough, I would 

come home and cook too! Papaji loved chilli-chicken and I found that cooking 

actually relaxed me. Cooking and eating together helped us bond and get to know each 

other better. Now that the project is complete I feel like a big part of me is somehow 

missing. Even though I was not physically there all the time, I was so involved in the 

whole project that it became me. 

photo courtesy: art ichol 

Art Ichol has played a significant role in my life. I have lived with an imagined 

vision, seen it grow brick by brick, to behold it standing solemn and magnificent 

among the hills and scenic landscape of Ichol Village. It’s an awesome sight. To 

have been part of its creation is something that I cherish and thank Ambica di 

for. Nurtured by dreams, ideas and perseverance of many, I know it will assert its 

contribution in the world of art. 

Elevating the indigenous or local - using junk automobile parts, metal 

drums and fuel tanks is an essential feature of Narayan Sinha’s work. 

For this self-taught 35-year-old sculptor, art is all about celebrating 

beauty in the mundane. Working with ‘Found Materials’ he creates 

an ambience where local tradition and culture are placed in the global 

perspective of contemporary art.

Salamat Khan 

photo credit: sudharak olwe

Kuch Unkahi 

Xmo nr‹S>r`m| go h_mam nardma, SNS H$ånZr Am¡a gÝOrd ~oar gmh~ Ho$ nardma Ho$ godm _| ahm h¢ & 

1926 go h_mao {nVmOr S´>oda Wo Am¡a 1972 _| h_ ^r ~oar nardma Ho$ godm _|, S´>oda H$m Om¡~ H$aZo 

bJo & gÝOrd ~oar Ho$ XmXmOr go boH$a CZHo$ nmoVo dra ~m~m H$s godm _| ahm hÿ± & [aQ>mà_|Q> Ho$ ~mX, 

2011 _|, lr_Vr Apå~H$m ~oar Zo AmQ>© BMm¡b Ho$ {gb{gbo _|, h_| {\$a H$m_ H$aZo H$m _m¡μH$m Xr`m & 

`h h_mao {bò EH$ AZmoIm AZw^d ahm h¢ & EH$ ZB© OJh Wr, EH$ Z`m H$m_ Am¡a AZoH$ bmoJm| 

go {_bZo Amoa CZHo$ gmW Ow‹S>Ho$ H$m_ H$aZo H$m Adga {_bm & h_mam _Obm ~oQ>m _whå_X ehrX 

ImZ, _¡ha Am¡a Amgnmg BbmH$m| _| μO_tZ d àmnaQ>r boZ-XoZ H$m H$m_ H$aVo h¢ & CZH$s gånH©$ go 

Jwa àgmX {_lmOr Zo, AnZr μO_rZ Apå~H$m Or H$mo ~oMr & AmQ>© BMm¡b Ho$ AμJb-~μJb _| A~ 

^r {_lmOr H$s μO_rZ h¢, OhmZ dh J|hÿ§ Am¡a YmZ H$s IoVr-~m‹S>r H$aVo h¢ & Cg g_` O~ CÝhm|Zo 

μO_rZ ^m^rOr H$mo ~oMm, dh ZB© nr‹S>r Ho$ _wVm{~μH$ IoVr-~m‹S>r Ho$ H$m_ _| Ag\$b W|, Š`m|{H$ 

CZHo$ nmg _erZ BË`m{X Ho$ gmYZ Zht W|& AnZo μO_rZ H$m `h {hñgm ~oMH$a CÝho _erZ BË`m{X 

Ho$ gmYZ CnbãY hþE & 

BMm¡b H$m ßbm°Q> g‹S>H$ go N>… μ\w$Q> Jham Wm & Ina¡b H$moR>r ~ZmZo Ho$ brò nmnmOr Am¡a Zmam`Z qghm 

H$m {ZU©` Wm, {H$ Bgo Mma μ\w$Q> Am¡a ^r Cƒm [H$`m Omò & BgHo$ brò h_ ~μJb dmbo Vmbm~ go 

{_Å>r bm`m H$aVo Wo & L&T H$ånZr H$s nm°H$b|Z _erZ Ho$ gmYZ go {_Å>r H$mQ>Ho$ Mmam| Vaμ\$ EH$ {_Å>r 

H$m _ha H$Q>dm`m & bmoS>a go {_Å>r CR>dmVo Wo & `h H$m_ H$admVo H$admVo H$B© Eogo H$m_ ^r H$aZo 

n‹S>o, Omo ˜VaZmH$ Am¡a μJ^ra {H$ñ_ H$m _mhm¡b I‹S>m H$aVo & 

{_Å>r H$mQ>Vo H$mQ>Vo H$B© gm±n {ZH$bVo Wo {OÝh| h_ VwaÝV _ma XoVo Wo & h_mao `hm± gm±n ~hþV ˜VaZmH$ 

_mZo OmVo h¢ & Am¡a h_mao ~wμOwJ© H$hm H$aVo h¢, {H$ ImZo Ho$ g_` ^r AJa gm±n {XIVm h¡, Vmo g~ 

Hw$N> N>mo‹S>Ho$, Cñgr dμŠV _ma XoZm Mm{hò & 

gmB©Q> no ~wÝXobIÊS> amO H$s EH$ àmMrZ N>Îmar h¢ & Amg-nmg bmoJm| H$m _mÞm h¢ {H$ CgHo$ ZrMo 

IμOmZm X~m hþAm h¢ {OgH$s ajm ZmJ Am¡a Zm{JZ H$aVo h¢ & ^m^rOr Zo h_go H$hm Wm {H$ AJa 

H$moB© gm±n Bg N>Îmar go {ZH$bo Vmo CÝh| Zht _maZm & bo{H$Z _μOXÿa Am¡a AÝ` ì`º$s, Omo H$ÝñQ´>H$eZ 

Ho$ H$m_ _| bJo Wo, CÝH$s gwajm H$m Ü`mZ aIVo, h_Z| EH$ ^r gm±n H$mo Zht N>mo‹S>m & OJh OJh go 

nƒmgm| {ZH$bo, bJ^J Xg nÝÐh amoμO {_bVo Wo - a§J {~a§Jo AXerb gm±n, H$mbm ZmJ Am¡a H$B© 

AÝ` Vah Ho$ gm±n XoIZo H$mo {_bm & 


Salamat Khan 

EH$ ~ma Eogm ^r hþAm Wm {H$ bo~a {_Å>r H$mQ>Vo-H$mQ>Vo, EH$-S>o‹S> Q>U H$s {_Å>r Ho$ ZrMo X~ J`| & 

AμJb-~μJb {_Å>r H$mQ>Vo Ahgm§g Zht ahm Ho$ {_Å>r {H$VZr {hb MwH$s Wr Am¡a hëH$s gr VH$ama go, 

Cna go Eogo {Jar O¡go nhm‹S>r B©bmH$m _| b¢S>ñbmB©S> hmo & nyam hbMb _M J`m Am¡a OmZ Ho$ ˜Vao 

H$m S>a ahm & na byg {_Å>r Wr Am¡a h_ CÝH$mo VwaÝV {ZH$mb nm` Am¡a H$moB> MmoQ> ^r {H$gr H$mo Zht 

bJr & Wmo‹S>o Xao μOê$a ê$Ho$ Wo, na Hw$N>± hr Xoa ~mX, dhr bo~a Zo H$m_ {\$a Mmby H$a Xrò & 

photo credit: tanya dutt 


AmQ>© BMm¡b ~ZmZo _| g~go ~‹S>m gh`moJ nmnmOr H$m Wm & dh gw~h 9 ~Oo go boH$a em_ Ho$ 7 ~Oo 

VH$, nyam {XZ gmB©Q> no ahH$a, AnZo gm_Zo H$m_ H$admVo & CÝH$s ZμOa, Mm¡amgr gmb Ho$ C_« no ^r 

~hþV VoμO Wr& H$^r nÝÐm μ\w$Q> `m ~rg μ\w$Q> H$s Xÿar go XoIH$a dh ~VmVo Woo {H$ nmB©n grYr Zht bJ 

ahr, `m Xrdma Wmo‹S>r Vo‹S>hr ~Z ahr h¢ & Am¡a Bg Vah CZHo$ _mJ©-Xe©Z go H$m_ ~‹S>o μH$m`Xo go gånÞ 

hþE Am¡a bo~a H$s bmnadmhr H$s H$moB JwZOmB©e Zm ahr & 

nmnmOr H$m AÝXmμOm ^r H$m\$s H$_mb H$m± Wm & O~ N>V bJ ahr hmoVr, dh XoIHo$ hr ~Vm XoVo Wo 

{H$ BVZr ~moar gr_oÊQ> Mmhrò & Cgr AÝXmμOo Ho$ _wVm{~μH$ h_ _mb _§JdmVo Am¡a AmíM`© H$s ~mV 

`h Wr, Ho$ CZH$m AÝXmμOm h_oem Eo¸y$aoQ> ahm & 

H§$ñQ´>ŠeZ Ho$ Xm¡amZ nmZr H$s ~‹S>r g_ñ`m Wr & Xÿa go nmZr AmVm Wm & AmQ>© BMm¡b Ho$ ßbm°Q> Ho$ ~rM 

_| EH$ Eo{Vhm{gH$ ~mAmobr _m¡μOyX h¡, bo{H$Z h_mao H$m_ Ho$ {bò CgH$m nmZr H$_ nam & nmhm‹S>r go 

{JaVm, {_Å>r Ho$ ~hþV JhamB© go `h nmZr {ZH$bVm h¢ Am¡a Amg-nmg IoVr Ho$ {bò BñVo_mb hmoVm 

h¢, na `h JÝXm nmZr h¢ Am¡a nrZo bm`H$ Zht & h_| ~m¡[a¨J H$admZm n‹S>m Am¡a nån ^r bJm`m & 

VrZ ~ma ~m¡[a¨J H$aHo$, Mm¡Wr ~ma ~m¡[a¨J H$aZo no, 240 μ\w$Q> H$s JhamB© no h_| nmZr CnbãY hþAm & 

Ztd Ho$ {bò YmoH$m, AnZm bmoH$b bmb nÏWa, Mmhrò Wm, na `h h_| AmgmZr go Zht {_bm & 

`hmZ, dhmZ YmoH$m _±JdmH$a Ztd âVo Wo H$B© hXgo & ha Vah H$s naoemZr H$m gm_Zm h_ bmoJm| H$mo 

H$aZm n‹S>m & {~Obr ^r Zht Wr Am¡a h_ O¡ZaoQ>a bmH$a H$m_ H$aVo Wo & 

`hmZ na ha Vah Ho$ ~X_me JwÊS>o bmoJ ^r AmVo Wo & {gŠ`mo[aQ>r Ho$ _m_bo _| h_| AnZo ~‹S>o ^mB© 

g_mZ, namoh‹S>Or H$m ~hþV gh`moJ {_bm & EH$ ~ma amV Ho$ Xg ~Oo Hw$M JwÊS>o Am nhþ±Mo& _¢ AnZo 

Ka no Wm O~ μ\$moZ Am`m Am¡a BMm¡b Ho$ {bò {ZH$b aho Wo, bo{H$Z namoh‹S>Or ~mobo… “Amn Ka na 

aho, h_ g~ XoIb|J&” CÝht Ho$ _XX go hr ò H$m_ gån{Îm H$s Amoa Mbm &

Kuch Unkahi 

nmnmOr, ^m^rOr Am¡a Am{XË` ^B`m H$m {dídmg h_mao {bò EH$ ~hþV _hËdnyU© ~mV ahr & H$^r 

^r {H$gr Zo {hgm~ ny§N>m Zht & nyar XrQ>ob _| h_ {hgm~ aIVo Wo, Am¡a `h ~hþV {μOå_o H$m H$m_ _wPo 

gm¢nZo Am¡a {Z^mZo H$m AmXa nyam nardma go {_bm & 

~ƒnZ go boH$a AmO VH$ h_ Bgr BbmμHo$ _| aho h¢ - gVZm go boH$a _¡ha VH$ & EH$ ~ma ~oar gmh~ 

Zo h_| H$mobH$mVm ~wbm`m Wm Jm‹S>r N>mo‹S>Zo Ho$ {bò & h_| ~‹S>o eha H$m emoa Am¡a hbMb {~ëHw$b 

AÀN>m Zht bJm Am¡a VwaÝV bm¡Q> Amò & h_| ~‹S>r ˜wer _hgyg hmoVr h¡ Ho$ `h AmQ>© BMm¡b g¡ÝQ>a 

`hmZ ~Zm h¢ Am¡a BgHo$ μO[aò, Xþ{Z`m dmbm| H$mo h_mao BbmμHo$ H$s emÝVr, àmH¥${VH$ gwÝXaVm Am¡a 

Jham Eo{Vhmg H$mo AZw^d H$aZo H$m _m¡μH$m {_b ahm h¢ & 


 

 

entire life in and around Maihar. Salamat has four children. He stays 

in the infamous Purani Basti and is most proud, that staying in this 

notorious locality, he has bought his children up with good values and 

 

related construction activity.

Aditya Beri 

photo credit: sudeep sen


The genetic line that I come from makes me uneasy with any form of public 

interaction. But, the making of Art Ichol has been an incredible experience and I am 

happy to share my story, as witness to its unfolding. While most people will naturally 

be documenting my mother’s effort in this, I write this as a tribute to my father, along 

with a grateful acknowledgment to the universe that birthed me to two of the nicest, 

albeit differently built people. I know that mom and the most incredible job she and 

her team have done to build this Centre will be talked about in-depth by many, for a 

long time to come, but the silent, invisible ‘Mr. India’ in this project has been my dad 

Sanjiv Beri. You may not see his contributions at the design stage or at the conceptual 

level. And even if you do, it’s probably somewhere where it’s not looking ideal. 

The most admirable quality of my dad is his uncluttered mind when it comes to his 

decision-making ability for his family. Ichol, like many other decisions before this, 

was never an inspired, strategic, or thought out decision, where he sweated over a 

budget or laboured over the function or ideals of the centre. It was a decision that 

stemmed from a simple thought – ‘would it make Ambica happy’. 

At an early age, I learned that I could bargain for pretty much anything from my 

father, if I produced a tear at the right place and the right time. That’s how easy it 

was, not only for me, but for the entire family, to get anything out of him. I too have 

inherited this trait which makes my decision-making fairly simple - would it make 

mom happy? I know how hard my mom and nana have worked on Ichol, but I also 

know that without papa giving a them an absolutely free hand to use, misuse or 

downright abuse his infrastructure in Maihar, Ichol could not have been conceived, 

nor be the place it is today. I remember the day our huge pay loader got stuck in the 

mud at Ichol and it took the mine staff three days to get it out of there and back to 

the mines. 

There are many silent heroes among our staff at SNS Minerals (our family-run 

company), whose lives have been thrown out of gear on more than a few occasions 

when it came to dealing with mom, Narayan or nana. I owe gratitude and thanks 

to Himanshu Kothari ji, RD Singh, J. P. Chaurasia, Ravi Singh ji, Chowdhury ji and 


Aditya Beri 

Tiwari ji. Salamat and his contribution have 

been well documented, but I just want to share 

the great debt of gratitude I owe him for being a 

pillar of support, especially for my octogenarian, 

maternal grandfather or nana - the architect of 

Ichol. For me, Salamat is like the Indian army - 

those selfless people who allow us to sleep well 

at night because we know that on their watch 

nothing untoward will happen. Even today, I seek 

his advice when I’m stuck with an operational 

issue or problem with the crusher or mines 

because of his innate ability to think quickly and 

practically. 

I haven’t inherited my mom’s ability or passion 

for art. Her labour of love, Art Ichol, was often 

referred by me as the ‘construction site’ till I 

realized how much this upset her. She has done 

the most amazing job in such a remote place with 

a frugal budget. For me, to even try and tabulate 

her achievements would be to belittle them. I also 

want to thank Narayan, because without him the 

visual delight that Art Ichol is today would never 

have been possible. 

Nothing that I write with reference to either of 

my parents can be considered complete without 

the mention of a certain Vir Beri. Aisha, my 

beautiful daughter, when you read this, say 

twenty years from now, don’t kill me for not 

mentioning you because you were born when 

Ichol was already built. If Art Ichol is the rhythm


of my mother’s heartbeat, then Vir is definitely 

its soul. Once, I was going through the photo 

archives of Art Ichol and noticed that virtually 

every fifth picture was of Vir. I tried to reason 

with mom that his pictures hung alongside those 

of work in progress, at the centre, was not really 

appropriate. I was told firmly and a trifle curtly 

that this was her space and her decision and that, 

under no circumstance could anyone remove any 

picture of Vir from the photo archives. And that 

was the end of that. Nothing in the world makes 

her happier than to see him painting alongside 

her with some rather bizarre storylines to explain 

his drawings. And if the cleaning lady happens 

to throw away his precious art-works, he runs 

straight to his daadi to complain. 

 

I have never understood my mother’s ability to 

fall hopelessly in love with paintings, sculptures 

and now her art centre at Ichol. But, it is precisely 

this quality that endears her to everyone around 

her. 

I hope Art Ichol brings her happiness and lots of 

success. Nobody deserves it more. 

 

doting father to his son Vir and daughter Aisha, but referred to as 

the ‘spoilt brat’ by his parents and brother. He is Director of Gallery 

Sanskriti, Kolkota and SNS (M) Ltd, Maihar - a third-generation 

family business. He is however, best known as Vir’s father.

Anshuman Beri 


Beyond Imagination 

When I moved to Maihar mom would visit occasionally; but mostly during the 

winter months with artists from Kolkata. It was when she realized that Aditya and I 

were spending more and more time in Maihar that, she began thinking of how she 

could also spend more time here, while doing something she enjoyed. It started with 

the ceramic centre and then the idea of a larger space, to showcase their works on a 

grander scale, was born. 

anshuman at the mines 

I recall that first trip to Ichol. It was barren land but the beautiful, historic chattri and 

hidden water reservoir clinched the deal. I don’t think mom had a clear idea then, of 

what she was going to do there, but Ichol really appealed to her and she fell in love 

with the chattri. I saw the beginnings of Art Ichol, but never came close to imagining 

the creative transformation that would take place. 

Mom’s always had this ability to see the future. Neither Aditya, papa nor I really 

understood her vision. The only person who related to this and who finally brought 

it to fruition was nana. His painstaking precision and practicality combined with 

mom’s and Narayan’s abstract ideas have created something truly amazing. 

There are obviously many people involved with a project of this scale. Some whose 

contributions stood out were Salamat and Parohaji. In a way, I was a little upset that 

this project took Salamat away from the mines and crushers, SNS and the tasks we 

liked to count on him for. But, Salamat really cherished the responsibility of building 

Art Ichol and enjoyed working with mom and nana. 

 

 

of May, he became passionate about the family mining business and 

 

where he now lives. He works at Ernst and Young, Chicago.

The Album

Maihar Archives

The Album

The Album

The Ceramic Centre

Ceramic Symposium 

photo credit: aditi saraogi

The Kiln Gods 

The idea of a Ceramic Centre was conceived in 2010 during a workshop curated by 

Jagannath Panda. Ambica saw the interesting works the painters had done in clay and 

the idea of a Ceramic Centre was born. The first international ceramic residency at 

Maihar, inviting Korean potters was curated by Chirayu Sinha. 

2015 began with another international residency and ceramic symposium. Sandra 

Black (Australia), Isabelle Roux (France), Anatolii Borodkin (Latvia), Eugenia 

Loginova (Latvia), Cynthia Siegel (USA) and Anjani Khanna (India), were invited 

for twelve days, to work in Maihar. This residency was conceived by Aditi Saraogi 

after meeting these artists at the opening of a teapot show in China, in 2014. Sandra, 

Isabelle, Anatolii, Eugenia, Cynthia and Anjani are all highly successful ceramic 

artists whose works are shown internationally in galleries and museums and each 

one of them works with their own specific styles and technique. This event will be 

followed by a kettle show by these artists, entitled ‘Flower Power’ at Gallery Sanskriti 

in Kolkata. 

Sandra is a teacher in the Freemantle Arts Centre. She is a master in porcelain work. 

Her work is conceptual, simple yet elegant. On the other hand, Isabelle Roux’s works 

are completely rustic and made distinctive by her poetic markings and impressions. 

Anatolii is an architect, designer, painter and ceramicist. He combines paintings and 

ceramics to give his work a whole new dimension. Also a teacher, in the Latvian Art 

Academy, Eugenia draws inspiration from nature, working with ceramic and mixed 

media. Cynthia Siegel’s conceptual works are thought provoking and intellectually 

stimulating. She is currently working with the traditional potters of Kumaratulli, on a 

Fulbright Scholarship. At Ambica Beri’s suggestion an Indian potter was also included 

in this residency and the international artists were joined by Anjani Khanna. Anjani 

is a trained biologist who fuses human and animal forms with a satirical twist, adding 

humour to clay. During this twelve day residency, they were assisted by the studio 

manager Milan, a talented potter from Benaras Hindu University, and his helper 

Uday, who is a local artist from Maihar. 

‘yali’ by anjani khanna


eugenia loginova and isabelle roux, photo courtesy: art ichol

The Kiln Gods 

Aditi’s concept was based on exploration and innovation in the working process. 

Fulfilling this brief, the visiting artists were challenged in various ways, but primarily 

by working with a different a kind of clay. What would normally have taken a week 

to make, took them considerably longer. Furthermore, the glazes and kiln were also 

new, but everyone worked with gusto and enthusiasm. Depending upon the soil, clay 

from different regions has its own peculiar properties and small differences in this 

can change everything for the artist. They had to literally begin from basics, to first 

understand the clay they were working with. 

elephant by eugenia loginova 

When this group landed at Khajuraho they went to see the temples and this visit was 

instrumental in the creative process for both Anatolii and Eugenia. Once the potters 

arrived in Maihar and had barely settled in, they began exploring the ceramic centre. 

Some even got down to work immediately, sitting at the potter’s wheel discussing the 

clay and how to work with it. Their hard-work ethic was inspiring. Sandra “approached 

the well set-up studio with some hesitation” thinking they had three days to make and 

decorate their work but, “No porcelain!” Reclaiming her beginnings as a student back 

in the late 1960’s, when she trained with stoneware and learnt to throw on a kick 

wheel, she got down to work and three days later, forty-two pots were finished and 

decorated for the bisque fire. 

Though mostly smeared with clay, they did get out of their aprons once in a while to 

visit the Sharda Devi temple and other local sights. It was wonderful to see how these 

little things meant so much to them. The afternoon spent at ‘Amariya - The Writers’ 

Retreat’, lazing in the sun, eating freshly caught and fried fish with chilled beer, was 

an instant hit. 

The symposium took place at Bharat Bhavan in Bhopal. All the participating potters 

made a presentation of their work, including some information about their lives and 

where they had come from. In her presentation, Anjani presented her work along with 

that of her contemporaries, which enabled the visiting artists to familiarize themselves 

with ceramic work in India. Local ceramic artists also attended this symposium and 

it was a very interactive session. Later, Mr. Devilal Patidar, Deputy Director of Bharat


left to right, (top) works by sandra black, isabelle roux, (bottom) cynthia seigel, aditi saraogi

The Kiln Gods 

Bhavan and a very able ceramist himself, took everyone to the Museum of Man and 

the Tribal museum. Both places are rich with the history, culture and work of India’s 

innumerable tribes and crafts. The visiting potters were impressed and also a trifle 

overwhelmed. Mrs. Shampa Shah, their guide in the museums, is also a proficient 

ceramist who has done an in-depth study of the Museum of Man. She chose to focus 

on the pottery division, narrating interesting folklore throughout the tour. 

Apparently it is a common belief throughout India that the very first pot ever created 

was made for the wedding of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati. Each region has 

its own story about the creation of the world and many are linked to the crafts in 

that area. In Manipur, the Meitei tribe believe that the sun, moon, stars, earth and 

elements, although in existence, were devoid of life. Their deity Ima Leimren Shibdi 

heard a proclamation from the skies to dig clay from the earth, make a pot, fill it with 

water and leave it in the northern corner of her house where she should pray to it for 

seven days. From this, Lord Sannamahi, the maker of all creation and life on earth, 

was born. There were seven suns scorching the earth and he shot down six to reduce 

the intensity of heat. He dug out mountains, unearthing water that became rivers and 

then life, as we know it, followed. The ‘vessel’ in Manipur signifies the womb from 

which God is born, lending insight into primordial societies and the relevance of the 

pot and potter in the evolution of mankind. 

Once back in Maihar, everyone’s work was removed from the bisque and glazing 

began. Working with new clay, no one knew what to expect. Anjani made her famous 

Yali, replete with horns and bell, using trinkets and stuff that she bought from the local 

market. Inspired by the fish pond at the ceramic centre, Cynthia made her trademark 

sculptural work and, a platter with a frog peeking out of a lily pad. Sandra was 

prolific in her output, making numerous carved bowls and decorated cups. Anatolii 

made clay-reliefs inspired by his sketches of the engravings at Khajuraho. Also in 

the Khajurhao style, Genia made two big elephants with patterns adorning them. 

Isabelle created large, stand-alone vases incorporating much detail and texture. After 

glazing their works the potters took another day’s break at the Panna Tiger Reserve 

and were thrilled at their sighting of a tigeress with her cubs. 

clay relief by anatolii borodkin 

elephant by eugenia loginova



The Kiln Gods 

On their return the wood kiln was loaded for the final firing. They did a little puja 

before the kiln and shared prasad. Anjani had made an exotic and weird owl for a 

Kiln-God and Milan made a small Ganesha to make offerings to. Round the clock, 

a watch was kept on the kiln; stoking the fire, maintaining a log book and poking 

the wood in. Potatoes were roasted in the wasted coal, buttered and passed around. 

To maintain their morale through their long working hours, everyone sang songs 

from their own country in their native languages. Anatolii who barely spoke all day, 

surprised everyone when he sang a line from RD Burman’s hit song ‘Awara Hoon.’ 

Anjani said that “the kiln at the Art Ichol studio in Maihar, was an unknown creature. 

But luckily for us, Latvian artists Eugenia and Anatolii, had a similar kiln in Riga… 

built by Frederick Olsen himself.” This provided insights as well as guidance for the 

firing process; where they “nursed the fire, taking it really slow, as there was large wet 

work in the kiln, which could explode or crack.” They “watched over with anxious 

stares…the pyrometer, which registered a fall and rise in temperature each time” 

They even “eschewed drinks by the fire” that evening, lest they lose focus! 

After an almost eighteen-hour vigil, they saw signs of progress. At last, the wood 

fire had breathed life into their work. The potters had been charred, soot-ridden and 

even burnt but, they were dedicated until the last. The whole trip was a triumph, but 

no victory was greater than the opening of the kiln. It was truly an anxious moment, 

knowing if the pots had turned out perfect or not. 

Drawn from four continents, these potters successfully transformed clay through fire, 

making art in a small town in Central India. When asked if they would do it again 

Sandra said: “A definite yes. Residencies take you out of your comfort zone, challenge 

you and link you with different cultures and ways of working. For me they refresh my 

practice and connect me with wonderful artists from a wide variety of cultures and 

countries. Maihar ceramics studio has all this and more. Thank you Ambica….. and 

all your staff for a wonderful and unforgettable experience.” 

work by anatolii borodkin

Gallery Musings

Gallery Sanskriti based in Kolkata is one of the 

oldest art galleries in the city. In 2015, it celebrates 

twenty-five years. The gallery enjoys much goodwill 

amongst artists and art collectors alike. Gallery 

Sanskriti has had the privilege of hosting solo shows 

of, such luminaries of contemporary Indian art 

such as, Akbar Padamsee, Laxma Goud and Yusuf 

Arakkal amongst many, many others from all over 

the country. However, Gallery Sanskriti’s primary 

focus has always been Bengali artists, for this region 

is rich in its artistic and creative heritage. 

Few other galleries can claim such archival 

supremacy in Bengal art. Therefore the exhibitions, 

planned for the year-long, twenty-fifth anniversary 

celebrations of Gallery Sanskriti, begin with a 

‘Tribute to the Bengal Legends’, with a group show.

march 2015 

‘A TRIBUTE’ 

IN MEMORY OF THE BENGAL LEGENDS 

Featuring artists BIKASH BHATTACHARJEE, GANESH 

PYNE, PARITOSH SEN, SHYAMAL DUTTA RAY and 

DHARMANARAYAN DASGUPTA, this exhibition 

showcases Bikash’s technique of post-renaissance, European 

oil painting, Ganesh Pyne’s signature style which is shaped 

from his own experiences, the strong lines and bold, stylized 

strokes of Sen, watercolours by Ray, and Dharmanaryan 

Dasgupta’s depiction of social inequities and injustice in the 

modern world. Show curated by Ambica Beri. 

‘NAYIKA’ 

Recent Works by LALU PRASAD SHAW 

and RAMANANDA BANDYOPADHYAY 

april 

LALU PRASAD SHAW is widely known for his highly stylized portraits of Bengali 

women and couples, where he lays the emphasis on physical attributes of his subject 

but manages to convey a sense of intimacy through gesture and body language. 

Inspired by the simplicity and uncomplicated lives of the rustics, RAMANANDA 

BANDYOPADHYAY’S lyrical and romantic works, on paper, Tempera and mixed 

media, radiate innocence reminiscent of a by-gone era. 

JUNE 

‘BLACK COMEDY’ 

Drawings by ASHOKE MULLICK and Sculptures by DEBABRATA DE 

ASHOKE MULLICK’s paintings are a satirical presentation of the ordinary 

man and the contradictions he faces in contemporary times. And DEBABRATA 

DE’s ability to express emotion and body language through his sculptures, sets 

him apart from most other contemporary sculptors.

july 

‘THEN AND NOW’ 

Drawings on Paper and Bronzes by SAKTI BURMAN, GANESH HALOI, SUHAS ROY, 

NIRANJAN PRADHAN, JOGEN CHOWDHURY, SUNIL K. DAS, JAYA GANGULY 

and PARESH MAITY. 

BURMAN’S paintings evoke the look of a weathered fresco transporting the viewer into 

a dream-like world. HALOI’S motifs have precise association with experiences that have 

shaped his life, and ROY depicts the female body with sensuality and romance, while 

NIRANJAN PRADHAN’S presentation of lyrical sensibility is coupled with sharp lines 

of geometry. JOGEN CHOWDHURY marries traditional imagery with the zeitgeist of 

contemporary painting and a Bengali sensitivity, while SUNIL K. DAS interprets and 

intellectually transforms experiences before presenting them. JAYA GANGULY’S oeuvre 

conveys an enigmatic air through structural compositions that are tense yet forceful, and 

PARESH MAITY creates magic with vibrant colours and dynamic strokes. 

august 

‘DISAPPEARING DIALOGUES’ 

NOBINA GUPTA 

Many facets of life are at the edge of crisis. We can choose to 

turn a deaf ear, but these facets are potent with the future of 

our own existence. Using pen and ink on paper, NOBINA 

GUPTA presents an interactive, visual debate. Creating a 

dialect between the material and non-material and conveying 

disillusionment in the stability of the material world, this 

exhibition proposes to instigate a cultural response. Raising 

questions about current paradigms of development and 

sustainability, the artist initiates intimate personal encounters 

with the viewer. A plea to preserve what we can, before the 

world as we know it, disintegrates into the warp of time.

september 

‘FLOWER POWER’ 

A Kettle Show 

by CERAMIC ARTISTS 

ADITI SARAOGI, ANATOLII BORODKIN, ANJANI KHANNA, 

CYNTHIA SEIGEL, EUGENIA LOGINOVA, VINEET KAKKAR, 

DEEPALI DAROZ, FALGUNI BHATT, SHAMPA SHAH, SANDRA 

BLACK and ISABELLE ROUX. 

november 

‘THE PIERCING NEEDLE’ 

GOPIKA NATH 

GOPIKA NATH works with needle and thread, photography, 

text and video to explore inner recesses of the mind. Uncovering 

stains - marks that create a sense of shame, fear, anger and 

more, which inhibit us from being more of what we can be, 

she negotiates this uncomfortable terrain with artistic skill and 

intellectual dexterity. The repetitive, physical process of piercing 

fabric with a needle is integral to a practice in which catharsis is 

intrinsic - healing the mind while transcending the discomfort 

of tracking the ‘stains’. And, a transformation of these marks is 

evinced in the cloth, evocative of the fabric of being. 

december 

‘JANANI’ 

JAYASRI BURMAN 

The imagery in JAYASRI BURMAN’S work has a 

dream-like, lyrical quality. Inspired by Indian folk 

elements, her refreshing candour is as original as it 

is endearing. She weaves decorative elements of folk 

idioms into intricate patterns, without losing the 

charm and naivety that characterizes her work. Her 

concern for women is coupled with a proximity to 

nature where the viewer responds empathically to the 

unorthodox canons of beauty and choreography of 

nature.

‘FRAMED NARRATIVES’ 

NARAYAN SINHA 

january 

2016 

Working with found materials, NARAYAN SINHA extracts the essence of 

traditional and modernist technology, where evaluating local tradition and 

culture and placing this in a global perspective play a significant role. Elevating 

the indigenous or local - using junk automobile parts, metal drums etc. are an 

essential feature of his work. For this 35-year-old, self-taught sculptor, art is 

about celebrating beauty in the mundane. 

february 

‘STRUCTURES’ 

Drawings by SOMNATH MAITY and 

sculptures by NANTU BIHARI DAS 

In taking what the physical eye sees, and tracing this to the subconscious, 

SOMNATH MAITY orchestrates a metamorphosis of concrete beauty 

into an abstract aesthetic. NANTU BEHARI DAS’ organic sculptures 

made of fibre glass, nails and screws, exude an air of irony, melancholia 

and anguish; vibrating as if imbued with some inner force. 

‘THE WALLS WE LEFT’ 

PRASENJIT SENGUPTA 

march 

PRASENJIT SENGUPTA’S paintings of acrylic on canvas depict faces 

of indigent children and women against the back-drop of old plastered 

walls. They are sometimes embedded in them or framed by a deep 

doorway; doubled-up or crouched in the largish niche-like recesses. In 

monochromatic colour schemes, of blues, greys, pale greens and gloomy 

ambers, he creates an overall mood of pathos devoid of sentimentality. 

Painting with a meticulous approach to detail and technical aplomb, 

naïve in sentiment and simple in concept, his compositions have a 

powerful visual impact.

Art Ichol received the State Tourism Award, Madhya Pradesh, India for 2015

Ra 

o’s draw 

ings com 

mu 

nicate the 

invisibi le spaces we 

encounter in our 

dai 

ly lives. Orig 

inally fro 

m Jabalpur where 

he studied 

art 

, he currently lives and 

wor 

ks 

in Mumbai.

Art Ichol Journal

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