Friday, January 23, 2026

Whispers from the Rajwada-Sangli Museum

🖼️ Echoes in Oil and Stone: A Quiet Afternoon at the Sangli State Museum  

A Slow, Personal Wander Through Painted Lives, Carved Figures, and Palace Whispers  

By Architect Traveller Artist  

Old palaces have a way of slowing you down before you even realise it. The light falls softer, the air holds the faint scent of aged wood and distant incense, and your footsteps sound almost apologetic against the stone. When I stepped into the Sangli State Museum—nestled inside the historic Rajwada palace in Sangli, Maharashtra—that familiar hush settled over me. My architect’s eye traced the graceful lines and filtered light; my artist’s heart paused at every brushstroke, every carved curve; and the traveller in me simply felt grateful to have found a place that asks nothing more than your quiet attention.

🏛️ Not a Museum, But a Kept Memory  

This isn’t one of those vast, echoing institutions with endless rooms and spotlights. The Sangli State Museum is intimate, almost familial—like being invited into someone’s private collection of treasures. Housed within the old royal palace, it unfolds room by room with paintings, finely carved wood, porcelain, ivory pieces, and delicate curios. There’s no rush, no drama. Everything is arranged with care and restraint, as if the past is being protected rather than displayed. Walking through felt like being entrusted with fragments of lives that once mattered deeply here.

🎨 The Moment the Past Meets Your Eyes: James Wales’ Portraits  

What truly held me were the portraits by James Wales, the Scottish painter who came to India in the late 18th century and chose to see people, not just subjects. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he didn’t exoticise—he captured presence.


I stood longest before the portrait of Peshwa Sawai Madhavrao (Madhavrao II). There’s nothing stiff or distant about it. The silk drapes seem to catch a real breath, the metal accents catch light gently, and the young Peshwa’s gaze—alert, thoughtful, alive—feels startlingly close. The composition draws you in: attendants nearby, layers of fabric and space, and a palette vibrant yet perfectly balanced. It’s history made human.

Just beside it, Nana Fadnavis regards you with that same quiet intensity. His eyes hold the weight of strategy, wisdom, and a deep appreciation for beauty. These aren’t mere records; they’re conversations that have waited centuries for someone to listen. In that small room, time folded, and for a heartbeat, I was simply there with them.

✒️ Sculpted Presence: Rao Bahadur Ganpatrao Mhatre’s Quiet Contribution  

The museum’s treasures extend beyond canvas into three dimensions, and one piece that stopped me in my tracks was the statue of Queen Victoria by Rao Bahadur Ganpatrao Mhatre (1879–1947). A trailblazing sculptor from the Sir J.J. School of Art in Bombay, Mhatre earned his “Rao Bahadur” title from the British in recognition of his mastery—blending Western academic realism with an innate Indian grace. His most famous work, the flowing “Mandirpathagamini” (On the Way to the Temple), captured movement in stone like few others could, and he went on to create equestrian monuments and portraits for princely states across India.

Here in Sangli, his Queen Victoria stands with dignified poise—likely in the lobby or entrance area—merging colonial formality with subtle Indian figurative warmth. It feels like a thoughtful counterpoint to the Maratha portraits nearby: where Wales painted vibrant court life in oil, Mhatre carved imperial presence in stone. As an artist who navigated patronage and identity in a changing era, his work adds another layer to this collection—a reminder of how art in princely India absorbed, reflected, and sometimes quietly questioned the world around it. Standing before her, I felt the weight of overlapping histories: the palace that once hosted local royalty now holding echoes of empire in marble.

Beyond Mhatre, the collection deepens with paintings by A. N. Muller—portraits that blend Western precision with an Indian warmth—and M. V. Dhurandhar, whose subtle palettes and storytelling feel so refined and soulful. Among them sit objects that tell their own stories: Chinese ceramics, intricate ivory, fragrant sandalwood carvings—quiet proof that Sangli was never isolated but alive with trade, exchange, and cultural dialogue.

🌿 The Building as Silent Co-Artist  

As an architect, I couldn’t ignore how the palace itself participates. The rooms’ proportions, the way light spills through old windows or jali, and the patina on the walls—they don’t just contain the art; they breathe with it. Standing before those Wales portraits and Mhatre’s sculpture, I studied the balance, the depth, and the way shadow, colour, and form carry emotion. It reminded me why these two loves—architecture and art—have always been intertwined for me: one gives form to space, the other gives it heart.

🧡 A Place That Lingers Long After You Leave  

The Sangli State Museum doesn’t shout for your awe; it earns your affection slowly. Come expecting spectacle, and you might walk past its magic. Come ready to linger, to look closely, to let the quiet work on you—and you’ll carry a piece of it away.

If you’d like a calm glimpse before planning a visit (or just to feel the atmosphere again), this gentle introduction from Maharashtra Archaeology captures its essence beautifully: 

Sangli Museum—An Introduction  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=erxBJLXWAw0

In our fast-moving world, places like this are rare gifts. They remind me why I wander: to listen to the soft voices of history, to notice what endures on canvas, in stone, and in silence, and to feel connected across time.

Until the next quiet discovery,  

Architect Traveller Artist 💛

Wednesday, November 26, 2025

Decoding Jamini Roy: Influences, Style, and the Making of an Indian Icon

 Jamini Roy: The Artist Who Made Folk Art the Face of Modern India

[Ramayana Series]

    
  Before you see a Jamini Roy painting, you feel it — the thick black lines, earthy pigments and those calm, almond-shaped eyes that seem to hold centuries. A pioneer of India’s folk art revival, Roy turned away from Western academic realism and rooted his art in the rhythms, stories and materials of rural Bengal. With flat colours, handmade pigments and motifs inspired by patachitra, Kalighat pats and Santhal tradition, he created a visual language that felt modern yet deeply Indian.

Close your eyes for a second and let me paint a Jamini Roy for you with words—because once you “see” it, you’ll recognise his work forever.

The Seven Colours That Ruled His World

Roy used exactly seven handmade pigments all his life — no more, no less. Each colour feels alive, almost edible:

  1. Glowing Sindoor Red – the exact red of a Bengali bride’s parting and Kali’s tongue. Warm, fierce, maternal.

  2. Vermilion Orange-Red – slightly brighter, almost shouting with joy.

  3. Deep Yellow Ochre – the colour of sun-baked village mud walls and fresh turmeric.

  4. Cadmium Yellow – pure haldi sunshine.

  5. Leaf Green – tender new paddy fields after the first rain.

  6. Indigo Blue – the colour of a village pond at twilight and Krishna’s skin.

  7. Lamp Black & Chalk White – the yin-yang pair that holds everything together.

These seven sit flat and matte on the surface. No gradients, no shadows, no blending. When red touches yellow, they simply kiss at the edge and make your eyes dance.

The Black Line – The Real Hero of Every Painting

Imagine a thick, wet, inky line drawn in one fearless stroke. It swells and thins like a tanpura string — thick at the curve of a hip, whisper-thin at a finger. It trembles slightly (the brush was alive in his hand). That tiny tremble is what makes the painting breathe.

Visual Themes You Will Meet Again and Again

Mother and Child (his eternal obsession)

In this painting, the mother holds her child with a serene stillness, her eyes elongated and almond-shaped — a signature element of Roy’s style inspired by Kalighat pat painting. The bold, confident black outlines define the figures, while earthy tones like deep red, ochre, and indigo create a grounded emotional warmth.

The mother’s posture is protective yet gentle, and the child leans toward her with innocent trust. There are no unnecessary details — no background, no distraction. The simplicity becomes the message.

Every curve, pattern, and colour reflects folk sensibility, yet the emotion feels universal. The painting isn’t just about motherhood — it is about devotion, purity, and the timeless bond between human beings.

Three Pujarins

Jamini Roy, known for embracing folk art styles, brings to life the simplicity and purity of rural India in "Three Pujarins". His bold lines and earthy palette speak the language of Bengal's indigenous art forms. The three female figures, depicted as priestesses or worshippers, stand tall in devotion. Roy's work strips away the excess, focusing instead on essence—celebrating the spiritual life of rural India through an abstract yet deeply evocative portrayal. The painting captures raw devotion, eternal and unspoken, bound by culture.

Santhal Drummers

Santhal Drummers by Jamini Roy (1930s–50s) is an iconic painting of two or three Santhal tribal drummers in dynamic, swaying poses, playing large drums.

Key features:

Bold black outlines
Flat vibrant colors (red, yellow, black, white)
Large almond-shaped eyes
Simplified, folk-inspired forms drawn from Bengal patachitra and Kalighat pats

The composition is rhythmic and energetic, celebrating the vitality of India’s indigenous Santhal community. Roy repeated this theme many times; it’s a landmark of Indian modernist art that rejects Western realism in favour of rooted, folk-tribal aesthetics.

Gopinis & Krishna

Elongated cowherd girls with impossibly long necks and tiny waists. Krishna, indigo-skinned, plays the flute. Their eyes are half-closed in longing, bodies swaying in perfect S-curves. The background is usually empty ochre or white—nothing must disturb the music of the line.

Cats (everyone’s secret favourite)


Black or black-and-white, always smug. Two upward triangles for ears, one downward crescent for the back, a curling tail like a question mark, and two emerald dots that say, “I was never here, and that fish was always mine.”

Christ and Mary Series (quietly revolutionary)




In the 1940s, Jamini Roy – a deeply Hindu and nationalist artist – created a remarkable series of Christian-themed paintings, mainly centred on Jesus Christ. This is one of the most surprising and powerful bodies of work in his career.

Animals in Pure Poetry

                                                           
                                                            




                                                        
  • Black Horse: one proud S-shaped sweep that gallops forever

  • Cow: soft ochre loaf with crescent horns and one wise eye

  • Peacock: tail feathers reduced to five perfect teardrops of green and blue

  • Elephant: drawn with four sweeping lines and two dots — instantly majestic

How the Colours Behave Together on the Surface

Picture a typical painting:


  • Background: warm ochre or pure white (so the figures float like dreams)

  • A woman in sindoor-red sari outlined in thick black

  • Her skin: soft ochre or white

  • Baby or pot or drum: pure white touched with black

  • A thin indigo border or a strip of leaf green at the bottom acting like a stage

The colours never fight. They sing in harmony, the way village women sing while transplanting paddy.


The Feeling When You Stand in Front of One

The surface is chalky and velvety — light sinks in instead of bouncing off. The painting doesn’t shout; it hums. Children laugh and point at the cat. Grandmothers fold their hands in silent pranam to the mother and child. Art students stand speechless because every “rule” has been broken — and yet everything is perfect.

That is Jamini Roy’s magic: seven colours, one dancing black line, and an ocean of warmth.

© 2025 Pallavi Vasekar | All rights reserved





Thursday, November 20, 2025

Claude Monet Explained: Impressionism, Art, and the Beauty of Everyday Light

The Day I Finally “Got” Monet

A simple, human guide to Impressionism for anyone who thinks art history is too complicated

By Pallavi


Why Artists Love Their “-isms”

Art history is basically a long list of moods, each with a stylish name that ends in -ism.

  • Classicism wanted everything neat, ideal, and perfectly polished.

  • Romanticism loved drama, thunderstorms, heartbreak, and heroes.

  • Realism quietly painted everyday life exactly as it looked.

Then, like a fresh breeze through a stuffy room, Impressionism arrived—and completely changed how the world thought about art.


What Made Impressionism So Radical?

Imagine the 1870s. Painters were expected to work in dark studios, creating smooth, detailed paintings about kings, legends, and mythology.

A small rebel group said,
“Why not paint life as it is happening—outside, in sunlight—before it disappears?”

So they:

  • Carried their easels outdoors

  • Painted quickly before the light changed

  • Used thick, choppy, playful brushstrokes

  • Used bright colours straight from the tube

  • Completely banned black paint

  • Turned shadows into blues, purples and greens

The goal wasn’t accuracy.
The goal was a feeling—a moment of light before it vanished.

Before our brain rushes to label the world around us, our eyes catch only fragments of color, light, and tiny shifting shapes—like small black dots long before they become distant pedestrians. This raw moment, before recognition sets in, is what the word “impression” truly captures. Monet urged painters to stay in that innocent moment. When you step outdoors to paint, he suggested, forget that you’re looking at a tree, a cottage, or a field. Instead, pay attention to what your eye actually receives: a soft square of blue, an unexpected block of pink, a fleeting streak of yellow. Let those colors and shapes guide your brush, just as they appear in that instant. Only then do you paint not the object, but your fresh, unfiltered impression of the scene.


Enter Claude Monet: The Man Obsessed With Light

If Impressionism had a heartbeat, it was Claude Monet (1840–1926).
He was fascinated by one truth:
The same scene never looks the same twice.

A building at sunrise glows peach.
At noon, it becomes cream and gold.
At sunset, it melts into lavender-orange fire.

Monet wanted to capture these changes. So he painted the same subject again and again—different times of day, different seasons, different moods. It wasn’t repetition; it was meditation.


A Personal Moment: Seeing Monet in Chicago

I had seen his paintings in books for years. But the day I visited the Art Institute of Chicago, something shifted.

Standing in front of an actual Monet—seeing the layers of paint, the shimmering light, the softness of the brushstrokes—I finally understood why people cry in front of his works. They don’t just show landscapes; they show time.

Real, passing, glowing time.


Monet’s Most Loved Paintings (Explained Simply)

1. Impression, Sunrise (1872)

A quiet harbor in mist, with a tiny orange sun glowing through blue-grey fog.
This painting literally gave Impressionism its name.

2. Water Lilies (250+ paintings!)

His garden pond becomes a dream—pink flowers, green lily pads, and sky reflections on water.
You can’t tell what’s sky and what’s water. Pure peace.

3. Haystacks

Yes—just haystacks.
But each one is painted in different light: golden morning, hot yellow noon, rosy sunset, and blue winter snow.
A masterclass in how light changes everything.

4. Rouen Cathedral

More than 30 paintings of the same cathedral.
Morning glow? Peach.
Noon? Cream-gold.
Sunset? Violet and orange fire.
He turned stone into something that breathed.

5. Houses of Parliament, London

Fog-filled dreamscapes—lavender, peach, and mint green mist.
He made London look romantic. A miracle indeed.

6. Poppies

A field bursting with red poppies, with his wife and son walking under a summer sky.
It feels like a happy memory you want to keep forever.

7. Woman with a Parasol

His wife on a hill, white dress glowing, wind in her scarf.
You can almost feel the breeze.

8. The Magpie

A snowy fence, a single black bird, and shadows painted in delicate blues and peach.
A lesson in simplicity.

9. The Water Lily Pond, 1899

His iconic garden bridge covered with wisteria, reflected in turquoise water.
A place that feels like a gentle exhale.


Monet’s Garden: His Greatest Creation

Monet didn’t just paint nature—he designed it.
In Giverny, he created a garden like a living studio: bridges, ponds, lilies, and arching flowers. Every angle created new reflections. Every season offered new colors.

Even when he began losing his eyesight, he still painted giant canvases with wild, expressive colors.
His vision blurred—but his art didn’t.


What Monet Really Teaches Us

Impressionism wasn’t just a style.
It was a reminder:

Nothing stays still.
Light changes.
Colors shift.
Moments fade.
But beauty is always there if you look.

This is why people stand silently in front of Monet’s Water Lilies.
It isn’t about art history.
It’s about remembering how magical the world becomes when light falls just right.



Conclusion: A Small Habit That Makes Life Beautiful

The next time you step outside—at sunrise, sunset, or even on a cloudy afternoon—pause for ten seconds. Look at how the light turns buildings pink, how shadows turn blue, and how ordinary streets look different every hour.

That tiny habit?
That’s Monet still teaching us, more than a hundred years later.

Love & Light,
Pallavi 🌸




Sunday, October 5, 2025

“The Architecture of Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus: Mumbai’s UNESCO Heritage Gem”


Discovering the Splendor of Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus: Mumbai’s Living Legacy Hey there, explorers and design enthusiasts! Welcome back to my little corner of architecture and travel tales. Today, we’re stepping into the heart of Mumbai to marvel at Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus (CST), once called Victoria Terminus. This isn’t just a place to catch a train—it’s a masterpiece that weaves together history, art, and the pulse of a city. As someone who’s endlessly curious about how buildings tell stories, I’m thrilled to walk you through CST’s stunning design, its unforgettable details, and why it’s so much more than a station. Let’s dive in with a cozy, curious vibe!

The Architecture: A Dance of Cultures

Picture Bombay in the 1880s—a thriving port city under British rule, buzzing with big dreams and bigger buildings. British architect Frederick William Stevens was tasked with creating CST, and he delivered something extraordinary: a blend of Victorian Gothic Revival and Indo-Saracenic styles, infused with Indian soul. Think soaring arches, intricate stonework, and a vibe that’s both European cathedral and Indian palace. UNESCO World Heritage Centre

The station’s C-shaped layout is perfectly symmetrical, with every façade adorned in detail—no side feels like an afterthought. At its core is a striking octagonal dome, a bold engineering feat built without centering in the 1880s. Topping it is a statue of “Progress,” a woman holding a torch and wheel, symbolizing ambition and motion. It’s grand yet grounded, a true fusion of East and West. Wikipedia

Details That Spark Wonder







CST is the kind of place where every glance reveals something new. Here’s what makes it unforgettable:

  • The Dome and Progress Statue: The ribbed dome is a technical marvel, built without temporary supports—a daring move for its time. The “Progress” statue above, with her torch and wheel, feels like a beacon of hope. Wikipedia
  • Lion and Tiger Sculptures: At the main entrance, a lion (for Britain) and a tiger (for India) stand as silent storytellers of the colonial era’s complex blend. Google Arts & Culture
  • The Star Chamber: Inside the North Wing’s booking hall, you’ll find a breathtaking space with Italian marble floors, vibrant glazed tiles from Maw & Co, and vaulted ceilings that feel almost royal. The carved columns are pure artistry. Google Arts & Culture
  • Carvings Galore: The façade is alive with stone flowers, mythical creatures, and human faces, each telling a tiny story. Students from the J.J. School of Art, mentored by John Lockwood Kipling, crafted the woodwork and grills, adding a local heartbeat. Wikipedia
  • Nighttime Glow: Since 2022, CST lights up with LED displays, especially for festivals, turning it into a radiant canvas of color and light. Wikipedia

Every detail invites you to linger, to see the craft and care poured into this monument. It’s a building that feels alive, whispering tales with every stone.

Why CST Matters: Mumbai’s Heart and Soul

Built from 1878 to 1888 for the Great Indian Peninsular Railway, CST was originally named for Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. Post-independence, it was rechristened to honor Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, a nod to India’s pride and heritage. hmdb.org

In 2004, UNESCO declared it a World Heritage Site, celebrating its unique blend of Victorian Gothic and Indian design as a symbol of cultural exchange. It’s also a powerhouse of function, serving as one of India’s busiest stations and the Central Railway’s headquarters, connecting millions every day. UNESCO World Heritage Centre

But CST’s true magic lies in its emotional weight. It’s seen Mumbai’s highs and lows, from joyous festivals to the heartbreak of the 2008 terror attacks. Yet it stands tall, a symbol of resilience and diversity. A heritage museum inside shares railway artifacts and stories, inviting everyone to connect with its past. The Times of India

To me, CST is Mumbai in stone—a place where history, hustle, and heart collide.

Tips for Soaking It In

Whether you’re visiting or just daydreaming, here’s how to experience CST’s magic:

  • Stroll around the exterior to admire every ornate façade—there’s no “lesser” side.
  • Step into the Star Chamber (if accessible) to feel the grandeur of its vaulted ceilings and shimmering tiles.
  • Hunt for the lion and tiger sculptures, donor busts, and playful carvings of plants and animals.
  • Visit after dark to see the LED-lit façade, especially during festivals, for a dazzling show.
  • Pause with a chai, watch the crowds, and soak in the contrast of timeless beauty and daily chaos.

Final Thoughts

Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus is more than a station—it’s a love letter to Mumbai’s past and present. It’s where art meets function, where history meets humanity. If you’re in Mumbai, don’t just pass through—stop, look, and feel its story.

Want to dig deeper? Check out these resources:

Have you visited CST? What caught your eye? Share your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear! Until next time, keep exploring the world’s wonders.

Cheers, Ar. Pallavi Vasekar


Saturday, September 13, 2025

Giving Visibility to the Invisible: How Kevin Lee’s Street Art Moves the Soul

The Power of Seeing: How Kevin Lee’s Street Art Makes the Invisible Unforgettable

As an architect and artist, I believe that creativity is not just about building spaces—it’s about telling meaningful stories through the environments we shape. One project that stands out in this regard is Kevin Lee’s collaboration with UNICEF China and Ogilvy & Mather Shanghai in 2008, titled “The Invisibility of Poverty.” This street art campaign challenges us to rethink how we perceive the world around us, especially the lives often overlooked.

Making the Invisible Impossible to Ignore

Imagine walking through the busy streets of Beijing and noticing a child sitting on stone steps. At first, they seem part of the city itself, almost fading into the concrete. Next to them, a clear message in bold Chinese characters reads:
“Don’t Ignore Me.”

Kevin Lee’s approach was simple yet profound. Using a combination of spray paint, realistic body paint, stencils, and photographic techniques, he blended homeless children into the urban environment, making them almost invisible at first glance. This visual method created a powerful statement on how easily society overlooks poverty.

With photographers Haohui Zhou and Bin Liu, these fleeting artworks were transformed into striking photographs—images that remain in the mind long after they are seen.

Art That Moves Beyond Aesthetics


What sets this project apart is its direct, tangible impact. In just five days, the campaign raised around $30,000 USD to help children living in poverty.

Kevin Lee’s work was never about decoration or spectacle. It was a carefully crafted message, a call to attention without judgment—simply asking us to see what we usually choose to ignore.

Today, these images continue to circulate, inspiring conversations and reminding us why creative expression matters. Art is not only about aesthetics; it is a tool to reflect, provoke, and inspire action.

Thoughtful Materials, Meaningful Concept

The project’s power lies in its simplicity. By using basic yet effective materials—spray paint, body paint, and photography—Lee achieved something profound: revealing invisibility itself.

The blending of children into walls and pavements symbolized how poverty becomes part of the cityscape, unnoticed and unaddressed. It’s a stark reminder, especially for those of us in design fields, that the built environment reflects society’s values.

A Call to Create With Purpose

In architecture, it’s easy to focus solely on function, structure, and aesthetics. But projects like this remind me that every creative decision carries meaning.

How can we, as architects, artists, and designers, use our skills to highlight what matters? How do we ensure that our work does more than serve—it connects, engages, and makes a difference?

This is a challenge we all face:
To design, create, and build not just for beauty or efficiency, but with empathy, awareness, and purpose.

What steps are you taking in your own work to address this challenge? I invite you to share your thoughts and ideas on creating with purpose. Let’s continue this important conversation.

© Ar. Pallavi Vasekar

Whispers from the Rajwada-Sangli Museum

🖼️ Echoes in Oil and Stone: A Quiet Afternoon at the Sangli State Museum   A Slow, Personal Wander Through Painted Lives, Carved Figures, a...