Clarion calls in pen and paints

TDS: Is it not difficult for you to hold up the mirror to the socio-economic and political scenario as you have boldly done so far in your cartoons?
Shishir: I won't say that I don't face difficulties. I do political editorial cartoons for Prothom Alo. At times this is not entirely so as the opinions and observations of the cartoonist go into the final work. Sometimes there is a tricky balance of my own views and that of the paper: in this there is less risk involved. I am compelled to remain within the confines of my paper's policy. When people's sentiments are overwhelming, e.g. when there is a movement against the government I'm given a carte blanche.
TDS: Are you ever harassed for your outspoken representations on canvas and paper?
SB: There are criticisms of my paintings, but there are both the positive and negative sides to them. When I had my last solo exhibition in 2000, there was a flood of viewers at the gallery. At joint ventures, like the most recent Asian Biennale this year, people did stop to examine my work. People are curious and eager to view my paintings as people have seen my cartoons often enough and this is a plus point. There is another group of art viewers who don't quite approve of the messages in my paintings and I'm sometimes accosted with art viewers who can't accept the social and political criticisms that are reflected on my canvases. Some people are of the opinion that since Shishir is a cartoonist, his paintings are like his cartoons.
However, as one goes back in time, there are many painters in the past. They abound just as in European art history -- like Brueghel and Bosch, the Dutch artists of the 15th century; Daumier, during the French Revolution; William Hoggarth, in the 19th century in; and Otto Dix and George Grosz the German expressionists, during World War II. They painted and made social and political cartoons simultaneously.
Cartoon is an art form which falls into graphics, and is meant for greater public consumption. Thus is as part of the media for mass communication. In this words and pictures are synthesised in a single frame. It's not easy to make a relevant cartoon for a particular place for a special time. My paintings carry the same message and in them I'm comfortable in using my creative efforts. They have a more limited audience. Here I don't have to follow any editorial policy. There is no fear, nor limitation. Yet, they may not communicate as easily as my cartoons do.
TDS: Your cartoons have a natural outlet in Prothom Alo . Who are your patrons and what is your wife's contribution to the household?
SB: My wife, Camellia Perveen, who was a Fine Arts student, five years junior to me, tolerates and understands why I give so much of my time to my work which doesn't provide a cushy living by any standard. My type of work involves danger too. At times Camellia is concerned and edgy as there's daughter Srabonti Suchindrima, too to consider. My wife is a home maker, at present, and contributes to our amicable existence by being extremely caring and understanding.
TDS: How did your parents react to your being in Fine Arts?
SB: They don't live here but in Thakurgaon. Fine Arts ran in my family although not necessarily in a big way: my mother, Indu Rekha Bhattacharya, painted, sketched and did embroidery; my maternal grandfather was a drawing teacher at New Delhi. The interest in art was something suppressed and inherent. You may say that interest in fine arts is in my genes.
TDS: What did your training involve?
SB: I had the guidance and camaraderie of Mahmudul Haque, Mahboobul Amin and specially Shahid Kabir (now based in Spain). They encouraged their students to experiment and bring out something of their own. Kabir, in particular, egged us on to work fearlessly, even if the work got spoilt at the outset. This was while I was in Fine Arts Department, Dhaka University. Later, I went to Baroda, India, to do my Masters, returning in 1987. My teachers there included Ghulam Md. Sheikh. The environment there included the presence of narrative painters and those who were politically-charged, like Gopen Khakkerwar and Jogen Chowdhury.
TDS: Do you paint for yourself or your viewers?
SB: I paint for myself first, and then for the viewers. My viewers and colleagues happen to be like-minded. One has to consider the Bangladeshi critiques too, as I'm exhibiting in my country. My main target is to express my realisation as a resident of Dhaka, a capital city. Of course, I don't forget that Dhaka is, at times, on the global focus. Some outsiders might consider Bangladesh a tiny country; I hold up the images of my country -- which is my frame -- as seen through a microscope.
TDS: How do you go about your work: do you listen to music while at work, do you make sketches from beforehand, have addas in between ..?
SB: I have no conventional studio and work in a separate space in my house at Khatalbagan. When I work, it's in isolation. However, when I make the initial sketches, it is done in my sketch books, even when talking to my friends of my favourite addas. I have different thoughts in my mind, while the discussions proceed. From the addas, with Dhali Al Mamoon, Abul Mansoor and Nissar Hossain, in particular, I gather the relevant and precise information for my work. I have to keep my eyes and ears open to what is happening around me. Images and characters crowd my canvas and they are all symbols of elements such as greed and envy. I'm myself my strongest critique and can never be self-satisfied with my painting. More major things are taking place than what I'm reflecting on my canvas. I want to use a language that will protest against everything that is provocative in one's social and political framework.