ONE OF DEVI SEETHARAM’S PAINTINGS
Recommended by Vignesh Sankar:
You know those hypothetical scenarios where you imagine what you would do if you suddenly had limitless funds and a house to match? If that were ever the case, the very first thing I'd buy would be one of Devi Seetharam's paintings, hung in the double-height living room of my not-so-real North London townhouse.
Seetharam's paintings, almost human in scale, usually depict Keralan men from the waist down. What first drew me to them was how they feel both completely still and full of life at the same time. The figures themselves are rendered almost as silhouettes, their deep skin given very little tonal variation, yet somehow they never feel flat. Instead, all the life seems to gather in the garments and objects that surround them.
For those unfamiliar, the mundu is a traditional garment wrapped around the waist, originating in Kerala and also worn across Tamil Nadu. Growing up, I simply knew it as a veshti. I wore one to weddings, temple festivals and family gatherings, usually made from heavily starched cotton that held impossibly crisp folds and sharp angular creases. Seetharam captures that particular quality so vividly: the stiffness of the fabric, its weight, its opacity. The cloth feels almost sculptural, while the gold zari border catches the light alongside polished brass pots, glowing against an otherwise quiet, earthy palette.
As much as I admire the paintings for their beauty, what keeps me coming back is everything they quietly remind me of. They remind me of my grandparents, my uncles and aunties, and countless hot Deccan afternoons spent in my family home in Puliyangudi. They remind me of the everyday rituals that rarely make it into photographs but somehow stay with you the longest.
Most vividly, they remind me of my cousin's wedding, where I had the task of wearing a veshti despite having absolutely no confidence that it would stay put. My family tied a belt around my waist so tightly I genuinely thought I was going to lose circulation, all in the name of making sure I didn't accidentally moon a few hundred wedding guests. Thankfully, the veshti stayed exactly where it was supposed to.
That's what I love about Seetharam's work. Looking at those paintings feels less like looking at art and more like recognising people I've known all my life.
For more RECS like this one, check out the rest of vol. 009:
