The Ghats

The first light at Dashashwamedh is the colour of warm brass before it is the colour of gold. The boats are still tied; the steps are wet from the night's wash; the bells inside the smaller shrines have not yet been rung. A single priest moves along the upper terrace as if everyone else has already left.

This is the hour the artist returns to most. Twelve compositions in this collection move through the same city across a single day — Subah-e-Banaras at the eastern ghats, the cremation fires kept lit at Manikarnika, the narrow lane between the houses that opens, suddenly, onto the river. Each painting is set at a named hour. Each is begun on linen and finished with palette knives, never brushes; the impasto holds the stone the way the stone holds the river.

Varanasi is the collection that gives the studio its phrase: the weight of place. Walk through the collection.