Sonshine in Arakkal’s life
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Artist Yusuf and photographer Shibu Arakkal are related in more ways than one. They may be genetically bound but they share more than just a house and a surname. They share a healthy disrespect for self-appointed art critics, a passion for motorbikes, an obsession with their work and while they may have opposing personalities, they co-exist blissfully under the same roof. Was this father-son bond always this casual and comfortable? What do they remember most about each other? What does a mercurial Gemini father enjoy sharing most with his peaceful Picean son?

Yusuf: We both love music, though of a different kind. Unlike him, I listen to Hari Prasad Chaurasia, perhaps because I hark back to the age of the dinasaurs! I love watching old films.

Shibu: I too enjoy them, especially the Guru Dutt classics.

Yusuf: I remember him as this exceptional, meticulous, creative and careful child. I remember him trying to get down a verandah with his little feet, searching for the terra-firma before he could let himself go. I have no memories of him getting hurt and crying out. My greatest fear was that he would grow up to be an artist.

Shibu: I never planned to be anything. Then, during my second pre-university course, I began to study fashion illustration and stumbled upon photography. I realised then that I loved it and wanted to pursue it. I have never thought of whose son I am. It is important that I am honest to my work.

Yusuf: I am glad he has chosen a different field. I was afraid he would grow up in my shadow and be constantly run down like many other young talents whose parents are big names. Photography too is an art form in its own right and today, he is on his own. We are two different people essentially. I am talkative and outgoing, he is not. I fight with my canvas when I begin a painting and he takes hours to shoot that perfect picture. But we have no ego-clashes and discuss each other’s work man-to-man.

Shibu: He had his strict period and his lenient period with me but I have no complaints, really.

Yusuf: I was strict because he wanted to ride a motorbike at the age of fifteen!

Shibu: As a young boy, I did not understand too much of his work, nor was I forced to get involved. It is only now, through photography, that I have begun to get more and more artistically inclined and read up books on art. But as a photographer, I like to start without any influences playing on my mind. I like a lot of things in his work and may have been influenced in a way, but when I approach a subject, I like to start from scratch. I still cannot judge his work.

Yusuf: Judging somebody’s work is another issue we both feel strongly about. I feel that only time can judge a work. You have to be true to your work and let critics do their job. If I had let critics demoralise me when I started painting realistic images after a much-appreciated abstract phase, I would still have been following somebody else rather than my own vision. My work is my biggest critic.

Shibu: Once a journalist criticised my work saying that the sizes of the photographs were all wrong!

Yusuf: A technically knowledgeable criticism is justified but I have seen 10 ft by 12 ft photographs in exhibitions abroad and I cannot understand what the size of a photograph has to do with its merit.

Shibu: I do not like being branded as a fashion photographer either. I am interested in food, architecture, people... I do what I find interesting.

Yusuf: I share this fear of labels too. Once I painted a much-acclaimed Wheels series and I realised that I could be associated with wheels till eternity by the media! The media still associates M. F. Hussain with horses even though he has done some phenomenal work on other themes. I keep shifting away from such judgments so that I cannot be easily caught! Shibu perhaps is doing the same.

The conversation over, father and son pose for a picture, the former proud and smiling, the latter guarded, being in front of the camera for a change. But once Yusuf Arakkal puts his son’s hand around his time-worn shoulders, the moment becomes liquid with laughter and unalloyed affection.

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