|
Talent, compassion, commitment and that little
something extra make the magical moment sin this artist’s life –
and the same magic reflects in her work which is an embodiment of her
experiences.
Born to Elizabeth and
Ferenc Sass Brunner, well-established artists, Elizabeth showed her
abilities for painting from the tender age of nine. Once, her mother
had taken her to a fair; there, a child fascinated her and the young
Elizabeth brought her home to paint her portrait. In fact,
portraiture was to become her forte. Among the ones which she found
particularly rewarding to paint are the portraits of Tagore, Gandhi
and the Dalai Lama. For Elizabeth, painting a portrait was an intense
experience during which she tried to penetrate by osmosis the soul of
her subject so as to express it on canvas. With a twinkle in her yes,
she says, “I became so engrossed in trying to show the inner
quality of my subject that initially I did not pay attention to the
details such as the clothes or background.”
The choice of Tagore,
Gandhi and the Dalai Lama as her best memorable portraiture
experience is very meaningful.
Her attraction for India
started with Tagore. At the age of nineteen she saw Tagore in her
dream, holding out a lamp to her. He told her: “Go, show the
light the world.” When she narrated it to her mother, Elizabeth
Sass Brunner wrote to Tagore and soon enough Tagore wrote back
inviting them to Santiniketan. This mystical experience was at the
root of the very special relationship mother and daughter shared with
the poet laureate.
Regarding Gandhi, her
painting of him was something of a test. After having first asked her
why she wanted to paint as “ugly old man,” he acceded to
her request but allotted her only half an hour to do so. Elizabeth
almost despaired of succeeding. However, undaunted and resolutely
gathering her energy, she managed to make a portrait to which Gandhi
affixed his signature as a mark of appreciation.
From her father,
Elizabeth had learnt not to paint something just for the sake of
money but only if she were convinced of its validity. Thus, for her,
each painting is the embodiment of an experience. As such, it becomes
traumatic for her to part from them. But she is not naïve and
understands very well that to go in search of new experiences an
artist must sell.
The fact that she still
retains the portrait of the Dalai Lama speaks for itself. His
Holiness and his message of compassion for all had a great impact on
her. About her deep commitment to Buddhism, she says: “I cannot
bear to see suffering of any kind or cruel and casual behaviour
towards any creature. Compassion is an inherent feeling to me. The
teachings of Christ and Buddha move me so much because in a way they
bring me face to face with what is inside me.”
Talking about compassion
brings to mind an amusing yet telling anecdote. In Rabindra Nagar,
New Delhi, where she lives in a ground floor apartment surrounded by
trees, birds and animals, her neighbours automatically brings to her
all the wounded cats or dogs. On one of her visits to the vet with a
wounded friend, a fashionable lady asked her in a clipped accent:
“What breed is your dog?” With her characteristic twinkle
Elizabeth replied: “He is a very special breed!”
It is opening unto others
that characterizes Elizabeth’s paintings: be it the portrait of
lohar girl or that of her dear animals, there is a radiance
that emanates from them. Elizabeth Sass Brunner’s paintings glow
with the same radiance. Mother and daughter shared a very special
relationship. Their bonds were akin to the bonds of a Guru and
his shishya.
There is one portrait and
only one where the two have collaborated: It is that of Swami Shanti
Vijay Maharaj done in 1943. Behind this portrait lies I supernatural
experience. A Gujarati lad came to Elizabeth explained to her that
this would not be possible; she would make it later after having met
the Swami. The next day as Sass and Elizabeth prepared to go out, the
latter inexplicably started feeling very sleepy so much so that she
had to back out of the outing. In her sleep she very clearly saw a
sage on her canvas; he seemed to beckon her to paint him. Soon after,
Elizabeth work up and immediately set out to work. By the time her
mother returned, the portrait was almost over. She was so struck by
it that she asked her daughter to let her add that background. It was
later learnt that she had actually painted the Guru of her Gujarati
lady friend and that he had passed away the day of her dream.
If compassion is one side
of the Buddhist coin, then inner quest and constant awareness is the
other. And so even at eighty-three Elizabeth tells us: “In life,
there is always something that lights up some hidden points. You
don’t know what will bring out from you a negative reaction. At
such times you feel ashamed and pained that even after so much
realization and watching, there are still some feelings, lurking in
an obscure corner. But with faith and goodwill in a day or two you
can clear them out.”
Talking of Elizabeth’s
paintings without talking of her persona would not have been possible
– for the painter and the person are inextricably linked. Her
work is a testimony of her mystical quest, which is for her an
ongoing process. At a time when the world is ridden with so many
strifes it stands out like a beacon.
| 
