Amit Ambalal & Bhupen Khakhar: Portrait of a Close Friendship
Amit Ambalal occupies a unique position in India’s art world. The scion of a wealthy mill-owning family, he is renowned both as an artist and as a patron of the arts. After he sold his textile mill in 1979, Ambalal became an art collector. His art gallery in Ahmedabad promoted many upcoming artists, while the guestrooms of his spacious bungalow was a sanctuary for visiting artists from across the country.
Ambalal met Bhupen Khakhar in 1980, when he was 37 years old and Bhupen was 46. It was the start of a close friendship that would last 23 years, till Bhupen’s death in 2003, when he and his wife Raksha were at his bedside. In an exclusive interview with journalist Dibeyendu Ganguly in Ahmedabad, Ambalal takes a trip down memory lane, reminiscing about Bhupen, his influences, and his work.
How did you become friends with Bhupen?
Amit Ambalal occupies a unique position in India’s art world. The scion of a wealthy mill-owning family, he is renowned both as an artist and as a patron of the arts. After he sold his textile mill in 1979, Ambalal became an art collector. His art gallery in Ahmedabad promoted many upcoming artists, while the guestrooms of his spacious bungalow was a sanctuary for visiting artists from across the country.
Ambalal met Bhupen Khakhar in 1980, when he was 37 years old and Bhupen was 46. It was the start of a close friendship that would last 23 years, till Bhupen’s death in 2003, when he and his wife Raksha were at his bedside. In an exclusive interview with journalist Dibeyendu Ganguly in Ahmedabad, Ambalal takes a trip down memory lane, reminiscing about Bhupen, his influences, and his work.
Did you and Bhupen influence each other’s work?
Our styles were different, but both of us had a certain naivete. Neither of us had any formal education in art. We deliberately avoided things that were considered “artistic.”
I had an outhouse for guests where Bhupen would come and stay. In the evenings, some of us would come together for gossip sessions. We knew a lot of people and happily gossiped about all of them. It was all very humorous and light. Some of these conversations found their way into Bhupen’s paintings.
What influenced Bhupen’s working-class paintings?
He grew up in a Bombay chawl, and that background shows in his work. He could sit for hours chatting with a servant or chowkidar (security guard), sharing a bag of chawana (a snack). He treated everyone as an equal. He also loved talking to strangers, often spinning made-up stories about himself—telling someone his wife mistreated him or that his son had become a bootlegger.
His writing was just as playful. I’ve kept a collection of bizarre, funny letters he sent me—many as faxes from abroad.
What was Bhupen’s work style like?
He was a workaholic. While working on a painting, he’d get very tense. After finishing, he’d take a bus from Baroda to Ahmedabad and come to my place to unwind. But even then, he wouldn’t sit still. In the afternoons, he’d go sketching in gardens & mosques.
You also promoted Bhupen and collected his works…
I exhibited Bhupen’s work at my Contemporary Art Gallery at a time when many called it obscene. But he had the courage to paint it, and I had the courage to show it.
I own his largest sculpture—a swami drinking—made in the Netherlands. I had reserved it, but someone else bought it when it was shown in Delhi. I insisted he get it back. Something similar happened with a painting at Gallery Chemould in Bombay. I called Bhupen and he managed to get it back for me.
I bought Bhupen’s paintings when they cost thousands. Now they’re worth millions.
Was Bhupen close to your family?
Very. He often stayed with us and became close to my bedridden father. They had an ongoing joke about when Bhupen would get married—he’d always say he’d come with a wife next time.
My wife Raksha was a big fan of his work. He once painted a sari for her to wear to a reception. Whenever he travelled abroad, he’d bring her a gift. Once, we were in Dubai and my son Anand asked for a mobile phone. I refused, saying he was too young. Bhupen went ahead and bought it for him.
We had a golden retriever, Dusky, and our attention to Dusky made Bhupen jealous.
How did Bhupen come out to you?
He was open about his sexuality. If you asked him, he’d tell you. I never asked, and we never discussed it. But I knew—when he stayed with me, he’d go out in the evenings to meet his gay friends.
When he began giving interviews and was seen as an openly gay artist, I told him he was doing it for attention. In that sense, he reminded me of MF Husain—another great artist and master of dramabaazi (the art of drama).
How did Bhupen’s sexuality influence his work?
It is visible in both his paintings and writing. Take his Yayati painting—he turned a non-gay story into a gay one. He often used his gay friends as models. Upon close inspection, I recognized many of them in his work.
You have also painted Bhupen youself…
Yes. I painted him at Sarkhej, with two young men in an intimate pose in the foreground. I also painted him in Diu—one with a fish (he loved eating fish), and another with a tiger.
How would you assess Bhupen’s body of work?
I’d place him right up there with Tagore. He was original. At a time when Indian artists were looking to the West, Bhupen chose to take his inspiration from popular art, from cinema posters. He read widely, and his work reflected those stories. He was deeply committed to his art.
You were at Bhupen’s bedside when he died?
Yes. A doctor friend from Baroda called to say the end was near. Raksha and I rushed over from Ahmedabad. All his close friends were there—artists like Gulam Sheikh, Atul Dodiya, and several gallery owners. I haven’t returned to Baroda since.
