Ashok Patel's art returns us to the spiritual core of India. It leaves aside religion (which, to Patel, has now combined with the same ugliness of modern society) and concentrates on the enhancement of the soul. Normally such work would cause us to shudder with distrust and irritation. We do not like being preached to. However, the work is so austere and honest, so much about the inarticulate nature of being swept away with innate happiness (a contentment we all deep down desire), that one cannot help but listen and hope to understand and participate in some way.
Patel's artistic life began before his time studying sculpture at Baroda in the Gujarat. Although his parents did not own a single painting or sculpture, he describes his youth as engulfed in spirituality and learning. His father was a spiritual writer and singer and both his parents were Hindus open to philosophy and writings of every culture. Often Patel would spend hours with spiritual teachers and gurus learning from them ideas and concepts beyond his age that he would then follow up later in library archives. He would from a young age listen to traditional music from India, world classical music and new age musicians, attuning himself to those intangible qualities of notes, rhythms and harmonies. He says that this infrastructure of spirituality gave him power whilst his time at Baroda provided him an outlet, a means to express what he had learnt during his upbringing. Patel describes his time travelling around India before college as a great influence on him too: "There was a lot of struggle moving around India. The whole journey was an internal one as much as it was a physical trek. Although my drawing during my travels was all the time strengthening, my spiritual growth was my priority, not art." When Patel finally joined Baroda, he felt that his drawings had enough direction that learning sculpture would enable him to materialise his drawings in the real world. He specialised in sculpture but his drawings never ceased. "Drawing gave and still gives so much to me. I never depend on the sculpture. I depend on the drawing. Drawing is like an express train. It moves quickly and fluidly from place to place. Sculpture by its very nature is more permanent. In that way it is finality for my drawing though anew and different evocation for the viewer."
Patel's draughtsmanship is the product of a purer automatism. His meditative state during his drawing is so deep and honed that he himself is often surprised as to how the drawings arise: "There is no ghost operating me from within. Complex drawing takes place in a way that I cannot express. It is like I am taken. I do not conceptualise or intellectualise it. I let the energy perform. I am a mediator, a translator, I dont interfere. Between this pen and the energy I am a medium." As the artist says, his hand moves freely, creating outlines of shapes with his pencil. This early stage of the drawing can take three to four hours; the later minute detailing in contrast might take weeks or months. Both stages involve meditation, patience and a profound enjoyment of the becoming that takes place in parallel with his creating. As the artist puts it so eloquently and mysteriously: "[Art] begins when becoming is dissolved into being an experience in itself." When Patel finally views what is created he revels in its beauty and meaning to him, everyone and everything. No form such as this, he believes, could have been found by seeking it out. They come from the deepest recess of consciousness, once translated to paper, their experience transports us back into the deepest consciousness. His works are in this way the product of a communion between himself and the inarticulate, the energy that surrounds him and that is him and, indeed, is all of us too.
