Rajesh Soni is a third-generation artist from Mewar, Rajasthan, who specialises in hand-colouring and painting photographs. His grandfather, Prabhu Lal Soni (Verma), was an artist and the personal photographer of Maharana Bhopal Singh of Mewar. His skills of overpainting photographs were passed down to Rajesh through the intermediary of his father Lalit.

Rajesh talks to us about his longstanding collaboration with Udaipur-based photographer Waswo X. Waswo, an outcome of a rather serendipitous meeting. While their photographs — largely styled as staged portraiture of ordinary people — are conceived by Waswo, they are hand-painted skilfully by Rajesh. The result then becomes both an ethnographic document as well as a canvas that can fuel fantasy, whimsy, self-deprecation, and is a satirical take on colonial visual discourse.

Recently, Rajesh and Waswo collaborated on Gauri Dancers — a series of photographs that tell the stories of the Gavri dancers of Mewar — the documentation of which highlights the centuries-old performance art, alongside the tradition of oral narratives. Originally published as a book by Mapin Publishing in 2019, the works are part of an exhibition presented by Latitude 28 at Museo Camera. 

How did you begin your journey as an artist?

My family, starting from my grandfather, has always been involved with art and photography. My grandfather Prabhu Lal Soni (Verma) was a court photographer and my father [Lalit Soni] was an artist, and an interest in the arts found me at the early age of 11 or 12 years. My father was my mentor and guide. He made me practice by copying out things of beauty, giving me the required technical training. In my early days, my practice revolved around sketching old heritage buildings of Udaipur, often close to being knocked down because of a lack of care. I believed that by sketching them out, I could summon a miracle and save them by bringing out their true beauty. I did this for a long time before I met Waswo X. Waswo, the American photographer, who introduced the international art world to me. With a mix of my family expertise and exposure to international perspectives, I built my art practice.

You have been working with Waswo X. Waswo for over a decade. How did this begin?

About 22 years ago, I was walking around the old city of Udaipur. This was a time when I was curious about the art world, quite saturated and fed up with the two-dimensional paintings of elephants or horses that I’d come across time and time again in the city. I happened to see a large signboard saying “Waswo X. Waswo”. I entered the haveli to see sepia-toned photographs from Waswo’s travels. He noticed me being observant and curious and said, “You’re the one person who has spent more than twenty minutes here,” which is when we began to chat. I told him about my family and my love for the arts and we continued to stay in touch in the city. One day, I visited him at his house. I spotted a box with a painting of Waswo done by my friend, Rakesh. I mentioned this to him but he said that I was wrong and that it was painted by another. I told him that this wasn’t true; that person was just a shopkeeper. Waswo challenged me to prove that it was, indeed, my friend’s work. It was then that I introduced Rakesh, the miniature painting artist, directly to Waswo, leading to a collaboration between them. Rakesh's English was a little rough, so I assisted them as a translator. In the midst of all this, I proposed my own collaboration with Waswo, offering to hand-colour one of his greyscale photographs. He gave one to me as a test, and the rest is history.

Did you ever meet your grandfather? What was he like?

I did not have the chance to ever meet my grandfather but my father has told me stories about him. My grandfather was rather close to Maharana Bhopal Singh of Mewar, and his works evince this. It was well known that the Maharana would not let photographers or artists do certain things. For instance, they would never be allowed to accompany him during his worship or poojas. Neither could they photograph him without his glasses. Seeing negatives of my grandfather’s work defying both these norms was proof that he was khaas to the Maharana. As an artist, being that close to the Maharana was a mark of creative excellence and craftsmanship. Much later on, I visited the City Palace Museum in Udaipur that hosted some of my grandfather’s paintings. Observing them, it was quite clear to me that I am of his lineage. There was a strong connection — vibrations, energy — that made apparent that I knew how to do this [paint like him]. I came back and began practising. It was in the blood, it was in the genes.

How did you learn to paint photographs?

We used to live in a small room. As a 15- or 16-year-old boy, my father would wake me up at around midnight to print photographs from his film camera. We had no darkroom and did what we could best while the rest of the family was asleep, closing all the windows. He taught me about chemical treatments and how to study sepia as well as black-and-white photographs. He wanted to teach me the process of art by rooting it into photography. Once they were ready, we would begin hand-colouring them in the morning. He taught me how to colour the photo, how to erase an error while colouring, and more. He taught me how to take photographs from an old wooden camera, moving to film and then to digital. He has been with me throughout this journey. My father always said, “This is not good. You must do much better than this.” To date, my father has never said that my work is good. He felt that I’d stop learning or growing. He wanted me to keep practising without the pressure of a goal; of growing freely. It is only recently that his friend, the chai-stall owner, told me that my father is proud of me and is glad that his mentorship has saved our family’s passion for the arts. My father did not make a fair living from the arts, despite being renowned. Yet, he dreamed that I could, as a third-generation artist. Despite the fears of it not giving me the kind of security that a doctor or engineer could have, he was determined to help me become an artist of virtue, protecting our legacy. I’m blessed to have been taught and supported by him.

How have you adapted your painting technique to work with digital photographs?

Digital paper is thicker, yet more sensitive than the old paper we used to print film photographs on. I had to adapt certain techniques to get things right. Removing colouring errors is a lot harder. It is almost like working on clay; every error or drop of water seeps in and there’s not much you can do. Every time the brush touches the print, your work has to be perfect. It is difficult to make corrections or alterations once it is done, so you have to complete a section in one attempt, else it wouldn’t work. The hand should not be stopped. For instance, the yellow should stay in the spots that mark the jewellery, and should not spread to the other parts. It was tricky, but I learnt the balance between speed, control and smoothness. Something that took me three or four days then would take me one day now, if I want it to. It’s a matter of practice, struggle and research.

Could you describe your collaborative process with Waswo? 

I have worked with Waswo for a long time now and it has been a journey. While he trusts me to do things my way — colouring greyscale photographs with my own imagination, there are times when he will ask me to add a little bit of orange to blue skies. I imagine all the colours without any reference to coloured photographs. I’m comfortable deciphering the colours behind greyscale photographs to the shock of many, often including Waswo. We share ideas but he doesn’t interfere too much in my process. I consider our work to be that of a team of two individuals. I make sure that I preserve the novelty of our partnership by ensuring that I do not replicate certain hand-colouring styles that define our work anywhere else; maintain the uniqueness of our team’s work. I do a lot of solo work that is stylistically different, continuing my family legacy. In terms of the business, while he shares his international perspective, I try to root our work with adherence to cultural sensitivities. I remember the time when I wanted to open my own gallery and have my own space. I approached a bank for some help but they refused. When I approached Waswo, he gave me the money that very evening. He encouraged me to be my own artist while collaborating with me. An unforgettable memory is his exhibition in Bangkok. He asked me to join him as the last time he showcased his work there, collectors told Waswo that the photographs weren’t hand-coloured as they were too accurate and clear; that they were printed. To prove them wrong, I did some live hand-colouring at the next show. It was a memorable experience. 

You have grown up in Mewar (Udaipur), experiencing Gavri every year. Do you have any fond memories of Gavri? What was it like to work on the Gauri Dancers (2019) series?

As a sixth-grader, I stumbled upon a Gavri celebration on my way to school. I decided to skip school and observe these men dressed as Shiva or Hanuman or Parvati or Sita, singing and dancing around a fire. There were no women, but they were all in character; make-up and costume in place. At the centre of it all, there was a man (Bhopa, or head priest) who would describe the connection between Gods and humans. He would bless people with peacock feathers while narrating a story from mythology, relating it to a modern story. This was a festival of prosperity, intending to bring good luck throughout the region, going from colony to colony. It would start early in the morning and end much after sunset. It was quite the celebration. I confess, as I got older, I got a little detached from the festivities. It was only when I worked on the Gauri Dancers series that I could reminisce on these fond memories. It has been nostalgic to hand-colour Waswo’s photographs with vivid colours I saw as a young boy. Painting a dhoti is usually easy but painting unique characters, sarees and heavy jewellery is challenging yet fun. I am proud to have been able to restore this age-old custom close to home and have it accessible to all as a book today. These traditions are dying day by day. It is amazing and wonderful that Waswo did this and gave me the opportunity to be a part of it.

 What are you working on currently?

I am constantly working on different things. There are three mediums that I enjoy — the first being sketching with black-and-white ink that I use to draw heritage buildings. Oil painting is another, with realistic subjects that I photograph. Lastly, I photograph things that are meaningful to me, composing a set in a sense, and then I hand-colour them. The last one is what I am primarily experimenting with these days.