The Vanishing Masters of Miniature Art

Amid Udaipur's quiet alleys, a centuries-old artistic tradition confronts a troubling future as its practitioners compete with slowing demand and digital reproductions

- Veidehi Gite

“I MAY WELL BE THE LAST generation of artists in my family. In 10 or 15 years, you won’t find craftsmanship like this anymore—no one wants to learn it,” laments Sanju Soni (43), a third-generation miniature artist whose workshop in Udaipur has become a pilgrimmage site for art connoisseurs. In the hushed stillness of his studio, Sanju hunches over a monochrome blue peacock, painted in his signature style. His neatly parted hair frames his face in even curtains as he peers through a magnifying glass, scrutinizing every detail on the 6-by-4-inch handmade sheet of paper.

“Indian miniature paintings are typically a few inches in height and width, sometimes even as small as 15 by 10 cm—yet they hold entire worlds within them,” Sanju explains, never lifting his gaze from the plummage under his brush. “These tiny canvases eternalize mythological and historical stories with detailing so delicate, they cannot be rendered with the naked eye,” he adds.

I watch in silence as his hands— steady, patient, practised—continue. The irony isn’t lost on me: in an age of mindless scrolling through digital landscapes, here sits a man painting rich, detailed scenes on canvases no larger than a modern smartphone screen, or for that matter, the palm of a hand.

THE SLENDER ALLEYWAYS and winding arteries that run alongside Udaipur’s iconic Jagdish temple, near Baddu Ji Ka Darwaza, lead to some unexpected treasures, and few are as remarkable as the modest workshops easily overlooked by hurried tourists navigating the busy City Palace road. I finally found the masters of the miniature at Sanju Arts and Nirbhay Raj Studio by following a trail of bread crumbs (and my best ‘I-know-myart’ impression) from helpful locals and chatty shopkeepers.