The Globe and Mail, Canada
Sept 9 2005

True Bollywood story: its posters

By APARITA BHANDARI

A chance encounter with an article in a French magazine two years ago
inspired Rafi Ghanaghounian to curate an exhibition showcasing
Bollywood art.

“I noticed some painters in the article and asked my friend to
translate,” he says. “It was about billboard painters in Bollywood,
about how things were changing, everything was going digital. And
these artists, their grandfathers were painters, and now they are
unemployed. Because of programs like Photoshop and Illustrator we are
witnessing the demise of a trade.”

Ghanaghounian is interested in cultural trends across the world. His
previous two exhibitions explored Japanese dolls and street fashion.
His current exhibition called Tamasha!, from the Hindi word meaning
spectacle or display, runs from Sept. 11 to 25 at the Design
Exchange.

Last Friday, framed colourful Bollywood posters were lined up against
a white wall of the exhibit space, waiting to be hung. Depicting
characters and scenes, some even listing popular songs from the
advertised movie’s soundtrack, the posters are mainly from the
fifties and sixties.

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The poster for the hit film Barsaat (Rain, 1949) is a typical
example. Bollywood legends Raj Kapoor and Nargis are painted in an
embrace against a backdrop of rain falling through the blue and pink
skies, capturing the romantic chemistry between the two leads that
the movie became famous for. Raindrops are also drawn atop the
movie’s title. Realism definitely isn’t the mantra with orange and
pink tints serving as skin tones.

Similarly, the poster for the cult hit Kaagaz Ke Phool (Flowers of
Paper, 1959) illustrates famous Bollywood actor-director Guru Dutt
with his muse Waheeda Rehman. Dutt and Rehman are painted against a
green backdrop with childlike floral drawings, and a vivid red rose
highlights the title of the film.

Classic tunes from both movies are listed at the top of the posters.

Traditionally, the posters were painted and then photographed.
Thereafter, lithographs were made. The original paintings were either
painted over or destroyed.

“It’s insane,” says Ghanaghounian. “It costs a fortune. No one will
do it now. Today you have vinyl printing and digital printing. You
don’t need painters any more.

“Many of these painters are considered labourers. Despite their
talent in graphics, they are not considered artists.”

Yet an original Bollywood billboard painting can today fetch a pretty
price from interested collectors. The 24 posters framed and displayed
at the Design Exchange can also be purchased for $350 each.

Earlier this year, Ghanaghounian travelled to Bombay twice to source
the posters. An Armenian by background, he didn’t know much about
Bollywood movies, so he chose posters based on the graphics. Some
posters of classic movies were suggested to him by his guide.

“We went to Falkland Road, where you have older cinemas,” says
Ghanaghounian. “A theatre manager gave us an address in some
alleyway. We climbed up a rusty staircase. And there was this man
with thousands of posters just piled up. They don’t throw anything
away. A movie may get rereleased and they reuse the posters.”

The exhibition isn’t just for Bollywood aficionados, says
Ghanaghounian. “There are so many cultures growing up with Bollywood
today,” he says. “When I was bringing some posters from the framers,
the cabbie, who was from Africa, recognized they were Bollywood.”