Experiences of restoring a master’s work

In 1960 Krishen Khanna had a job with Grindlays (now known as ANZ) in Kanpur. When his British managers came to know that he wanted to quit for painting full-time, one of them quipped: “Has he lost his mind?”

Eventually, his clerks gave him a send-off. Outside the bank, MF Husain and other artist friends were waiting to welcome him. Khanna was already part of the progressive group of artists including FN Souza and SH Raza, started in Mumbai, all keen to break away from European realism.

Recollecting his great artistic journey, writer Rahul Jacob, the FT’s South China correspondent mentions in an extensive essay: “In 1956 he painted a protagonist seated on the ground while playing a long-stringed instrument: random, Jackson Pollock-style black ribbons of paint done against a grey backdrop. It caught the eye of a young American, Geoffrey Ward, who bought it from a gallery in Connaught Place.

When I moved to Hong Kong in 1996, the Wards, in an act of generosity that still amazes me, gifted me the painting by Khanna. The oil painting engaged me like nothing else I owned. It traveled from my studio apartment in New York to my flat in Hong Kong to an apartment in west London. The dampness it had been exposed to in storage and the high humidity in Hong Kong had damaged the canvas.

In the spring of 2010, when I took a sabbatical to live in Beijing, Conor Mullan, a gallerist friend in London, took a close look at the painting. He told me I should turn it over to a professional conservator immediately. A couple of days later I took it to the studio of Stuart Sanderson, a conservator-restorer in London.

A before-and-after report that read: “The painting was in a very fragile condition. Damp and mould were apparent on the back of the canvas ... there were several areas of paint loss.” Sanderson filled the areas that had been lost with chalk-based composition. Before that process had even started, the painting had been taken off its stretcher and the front and back were worked on to consolidate the loose paint. The frame was then fitted with low-reflection glass to protect it.

Since by now I had spent more on preserving it than I ever had on buying a painting, I was advised to have it authenticated by the artist. I showed Khanna a photograph of the painting soon after I arrived. Instantly, Khanna said: “1956.” With almost total recall, the artist told me how he was inspired to paint the canvas I own, listening to the Carnatic musicians.