My father was an extraordinary man. During his lifetime he painted dozens of startlingly original, vibrant and (at times) surreal paintings: that were untitled, undated, unsigned and unframed. He painted on cardboard, hardboard, plywood or on any other material he could lay his hands on. He nailed these to the wall and painted beautiful pictures that nobody understood. Most of them ended up behind cupboards and doors cobwebbed, dusty and forgotten. Pieces of his life, heart and soul; the unquenchable fire that raged within.
Most of his early works have sadly perished. Some were gifted and now hang overseas. In the sixties he was fleetingly captured by Nihal Fernando who exhibited some of his paintings at Studio Times. After he died in 1985 I began this wondrous journey of collecting his paintings, dusting, repairing and framing them. Some paintings were used to replace broken windowpanes! One had pictures on both sides! I could not believe what I saw. I knew he was gifted and special.
Laki Senanayake walked into my home one day, saw these paintings and was amazed that nobody had seen them. He gave me the confidence and courage to arrange an exhibition at Gallery 706 in June 1993. Laki aptly named it “Odd Man Out”.
The exhibition was excellent. The comments in the visitor's book were indeed a pleasure to read. The paintings were not for sale Everyone wanted to know why he was unknown in the “circuit” when he was alive. I had no answers. Ellen Dissanayake wrote a wonderful review, which was published in the Sunday Observer and Island. This is reproduced elsewhere in this book and also deals with his technique and originality which I am not competent to write about. During the years after the exhibition I retrieved another 6 paintings that are also included in this book. I had to title all the paintings with my own perceptions of them, helped by some hazy recollections of discussions we had during and after a painting.
In or around 1971 “The Nation” a LSSP weekly ran a cartoon competition, which my father won week after week and was finally retained as their Cartoonist. These cartoons, which I managed to retrieve, are also presented in this book and show his remarkable awareness of local and world politics and his (obvious) communistic leanings. His other writings were penned in a fat blue monitor's exercise book from where I have selected ten poems he had written during his lifetime. These may give us a glimpse into his private world.
My father was an enigma and sometimes an embarrassment to most of his family and friends. He remained a zealous non-conformist right up to the end. Although born a Muslim he called himself a humanist, an atheist, a communist and a rationalist. Essentially an urbanite, he rarely ventured out. Most of his paintings thus seem to be manifestations of experiences and images captured in the city. He was a voracious reader of Science, Politics, Philosophy, Religion, Medicine, Literature and Art. The knowledge he accumulated during his lifetime was incredible.
This final tribute to him comes with sadness. That he never was recognized for his art, his profound love and what he stood up for in his life. Nobody reached out far enough to free him. But he selflessly reached beyond all parameters to free people from pain, to shield the weak from the strong and to offer his bruised shoulder for anybody to lean on. I hope this book will bring his spirit alive - again.
Jomo
Uduman
166/1, Rampart Road,
Etul-Kotte. Sri Lanka.
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