Architect by profession and painter by inclination, Iqbal Chaney's journey is all about pushing boundaries- those of the heart, and the art. Painting is something he does only on the weekends, but the process of putting brush onto paper is healing and all encompassing
“Will do, will do-just won't do." The long away words of his art teacher at school continue to resonate, even as Iqbal Chaney prepares to brush yet another landscape to life. "The thing with water colours is that, you have to get it right the first time. If you don't, you just start all over again," he exhales. And therein lies both-a promise and a challenge. To himself, to his art.
With two successful exhibitions in his kitty, the noted architect evidently wears the painter's coat with equal aplomb-despite a break of so many years, despite not having all the time in the world to devote to it. The secret, he says, lies in feeling intensely about whatever one chooses to do--holding nothing back. And realising it's never too late to work on your life's passion-so what if long years have been dedicated to another path. "Painting was a significant part of my student life," he says of his school days at Pune's St Vincent's High School. "We had a wonderful teacher in Subedar Sir, who would really motivate us to express our imagination in colours. What's more, he wouldn't allow us boys to take the discipline lightly, refusing to accept anything less than our finest effort," he reminisces.
The love of art was nurtured at home as well, considering his mother was good at it-not to forget several other family members who were artistically gifted as well.
But life and careers have a way of branching into unexpected territory. "It was the admission season of 1963. My dad and I had made the trip to Mumbai's iconic Sir JJ School of Arts at Fort. As you know the campus has three sections- Commercial Art, Fine Arts and Architecture," recounts Iqbal. As luck would have it, admissions for the commercial section (had been filled entirely for that season. "As we walked towards the school of Fine Arts, we happened to run into the principal of the College of Architecture. Before I knew it, I was enrolled into architecture," he smiles at the memory.
But no regrets there. "I have had a wonderful and diverse innings as an architect. It has taken me to different countries, for training and work, including the UK and Libya and has added an assortment of experiences to my repertoire," he says.
But the spark of true passion stayed, however dormant. "Every now and then I would meet my friend, the celebrated watercolourist Milind Mullik and he would simply ask one question of me: when was I going to take up painting again?"
A question with no easy answers given Iqbal's full workdays and pressing schedules. Work was demanding, but that little voice that kept saying 'follow your heart' just never gave up.
So, one fine day in 2011, after a gap of well over 30 years, he decided to do the deed.
"I had to train myself all over again, but the process, however painstaking, was completely worth it," he expresses. Bit by bit, weekend after weekend, another little world took shape. A world that paid detailed tribute to vivid landscapes and settings. A world brought alive by attention to detail and form-as envisaged by the painter's own eye. A world that demands both: sharp technique and sensitivity to nuance.
So how does his training as an architect influence his painting? "Well, as an architect one is used to imagining a scene in 3D and being able to hold onto a scale and perspective is useful indeed," he says.
‘One of the nicest things about art is that it takes you away from the monotony and stress of day to day living. However challenging it may be, the process of creating something new, from conception to execution, is nourishing and fulfiling’
His first exhibition was held in 2013 at the Ayatana gallery, Pune and was a clear-cut success, bringing in both the applause and the sales. Encouraged, he went on to convert a space in his Mundhwa office into an art gallery that was formally named Gallery Honeydew. "It seemed the logical thing to do as galleries are hard to come by, and one has to book months in advance to exhibit. So we took this little architectural studio and made it into an art studio where I held my second exhibition in 2015. That, too, was received warmly,” he says.
Amidst all this, his wife Nina plays both-supporter and critic. "She is very interested in all that I create, and is spontaneous in her expressions of approval and disapproval. If she thinks something is not up to scratch, she asks me to take a little more time over it. And she's usually right.”
Which brings us to the question: how does he feel when he paints?
"Exultant," he says simply. "It's a great stress buster; and one of the nicest things about art is that it takes you away from the monotony and stress of day to day living. However challenging it may be, the process of creating something new, from conception to execution, is nourishing and fulfilling."
And what would he have to say about the age old 'perspiration versus inspiration' debate?
"There's simply no getting away from the nitty gritty of process. You have to work your way up to the standard you have set for yourself-and that is that. But you must stay inspired through it all," he says.
His love for painting does not stop at selling the work and receiving feedback from his audience. "All the proceeds from the sales of my paintings go to the Iqbal and Nina Chaney Foundation for kids less privileged,” he says. "The focus of the foundation is education. We support needy and deserving children in their academic endeavours to the extent we can."
To speak of which, he does believe that love of art should be promoted in students from the word go. "Unlike science and computers, art education is reachable and inexpensive. You don't need expensive labs or instruments, just a dedicated will to introduce students to the joys of colour. Besides, the ability to imagine is a crucial aspect of a child's personality. It is what makes a personality complete, and ultimately helps them optimise their potential as human beings. Unfortunately, the Indian mindset is driven by the sole consideration of what brings in the maximum economic returns. Hence the lop-sided attention towards science and engineering at the expense of the humanities and the arts," he shakes his head "This attitude even manifests itself in the quality of graduates coming out of colleges of architecture nowadays. They know so much about software-and so little about design- which is essentially about creativity. And now comes the latest diktat, I hear, that only those from a science background may apply for an architecture course. I just don't understand the logic," he shrugs. "To my mind, art is unfettered by academic constraints; it is the one faculty that is innate to human nature."
No easy answers there, so it's back to his paints and palette for the day. Water over rocks; the sun setting in the background, or a natty little cafe he's seen in his travels. So many stories out there, waiting to be brought to life. And a never-ending expanse of canvas.
by Kalyani Sardesai
