Bombay, built and broken into Mumbai

The artist's recent work captures his ambivalence about development and despair over the war in Gaza and beyond

- Somak Ghoshal

Sudhir Patwardhan, 76, points at a large 50x76 inch painting occupying the better part of a wall on the third floor of Vadehra Art Gallery in Delhi, where Cities: Built, Broken, a magnificent solo show of his recent work is on. "This one is called War Zone Studio," he says. "It's based on my own studio."

It's difficult to convey the topsy-turvy impact of this masterpiece in words. At a glance, the interiors of the studio seem to crumple like paper. Two figures, alluding to the artist, lie on a sofa and sit in a corner respectively. There is also a third, busy at work, hovering at the bottom of the painting, depicted from an upside-down perspective, as if reflected on a mirror. In the middle of the room is a gaping hole, a menacing vortex into which the ambient chaos of paper, paint, books and furniture may disappear any moment.

Painted last year, this is a portrait of the artist as an anxious soul, pondering the futility of his work, as well as the purpose of art, in a world that is falling to pieces. "I started by taking photos of my studio," Patwardhan says, "then, I processed those images in Photoshop, juxtaposed the fragments, and finally began painting."

Patwardhan has followed this process for years. Before the availability of digital editing software, he would use the humble tracing paper to create a map of the imagery. It's a technique that allows him to break the laws of reality even while working within a largely realistic paradigm. In this exhibition, in particular, there is a spectacular amalgamation of odd, intersecting planes—in Built and Broken, 65x80 inches, for instance—leaving the viewer mesmerized, suspended between a state of vertigo and disorientation.