The Solitary Reaper

When the present world is gradually becoming oblivious of the connotation of the words like compassion, refuge, nostalgia then strangely enough, Chandana Hore narrates her intimacy through her pictorial language while blissfully coexisting with those feelings. When recent time tends to make use of technical skill and technique as an appliance in the field of creativity, Chandana confidently leaves behind all that is technically adroit, and presents those imageries which got reflected in the mirror of her own mind — over and over again in a rather repetitive manner for her connoisseurs. It gives rise to the questions like what does Chandana expect from her paintings or what do we receive from her works? It may be stated that Chandana expects nothing from her paintings or what she searches through her strokes of pen and ink or through the poetic flow of her water colour or through the tender touches of her pastel is an innocent refuge of a home. She remains engrossed in creating her own language while simultaneously living with her memories and her present. Then what do her connoisseurs find in her paintings? We find an honest portrayal of the life of an artist, her works are completely devoid of deception. Such guilelessness is quite rare in today’s world.