Ramesh Mario Nithiyendran likes things bright. The Sydney-based sculptor and ceramicist is known for his vivid technicolour creations, which make use of materials as varied as concrete, bronze, fibreglass and LED.
Until 13 November, a new exhibition of Nithiyendran’s work will be on display at Sydney art gallery Sullivan+Strumpf. Titled The Guardians, the exhibition is inspired by mythological figures designed to protect from evil. It comprises 21 ceramic works, as well as four drawings.
Whatever shape his work ends up taking, Nithiyendran has found keeping visual diaries essential to his practice. He rates those spiral bound diaries – which he fills in with texta sketches of potential sculptural works – as his most useful object. Here, he tells us why those pages are so hard to part with, as well as the stories of a few other important personal belongings.
What I’d save from my house in a fire
I’ve listened to many fire evacuation briefings. When I hear the “leave all your belongings” protocol, I get chills. It sounds dramatic, but I have so many loved objects! My house fire situation would probably resemble a comedic skit. I’d pack a suitcase full of things and probably fling it out the window. But what would be in this suitcase? I’ve made an effort to surround my home with inspiring handmade objects and artworks from various parts of the world.
I just acquired the most beautiful traditional Tibetan rug, which was made in India by Tibetan refugees. I love that this tradition is being sustained. It’s hand knotted and has two regal tigers amongst bamboo on it. Tigers are one of my favourite animals. So when my friend linked me to the Instagram account of Tim Roodenrys, where it was being sold, I pounced on it.
I would also hurriedly put artworks I own in this (big) suitcase. I don’t have any of my own pieces in my home. I look at my work all day in the studio, so I prefer to have artwork made by other people in my living space. But I only really collect handmade things. I’d have to make room in the suitcase for an etching I recently bought by Ms N. Yunupingu and a vase made for me by my friend James Lemon.
My most useful object
This is where I lean into the clichéd artist category! I have always kept visual diaries. My mind incessantly chucks ideas, images, thoughts and fantasies at me. Some of these ideas suck, but that’s just the nature of things. My best ideas often emerge at unpredictable times. The ideas can come like earthquakes. They make me want to run into the studio and start making. I remember being at a party once and having to find a moment to draw a multi-headed figure. I wanted to make it on my phone so I wouldn’t forget it.
What I have found most useful are spiral bound diaries with blank pages and packets of humble textas. Nothing fancy! When I was a kid, I would draw and scribble all day with these textas. And I still do! I love the sounds these markers make when you drag them across a page.
I never get sentimentally attached to my artworks, but I am so sentimental about my diaries. The Powerhouse Museum recently acquired four of my diaries alongside a recent work. It was like giving away my babies. I feel like within these diaries are drawings that can birth infinite new sculptural works.
The item I most regret losing
I’m currently in the process of compiling my artist archive. This collection of small sculptural maquettes, diaries and other bits of relevant studio detritus will soon go into a collection of the Art Gallery of New South Wales. As I sift through all this material, I just wish I had the first ceramic I ever made. I’m not sure how reliable my memory is, but I seem to clearly recall this work.
I made it during a short weekend ceramics course called “clay for kids” somewhere in western Sydney when I was about 10 years old. I don’t think I was particularly talented with clay at the time, but I remember loving the smell of it. The work was a head with big lips and curly hair. It was about the size of my adult fist and was glazed badly with a glassy brown. It was super wonky, but I was chuffed when it came out of the kiln. I also wish I had some of my scribbly childhood drawings. I’d love to see those!
