Eat, Clay, Love!

Adil Writer's Mantra

Meet a sought-after ceramist living in Auroville, who gave in to the dictats of his heart, switching careers to pursue, in the most organic manner, a joyful life, splashed with happy colours

Text: Farzana Contractor

Generally speaking, I am not given to envy. But interviewing Adil Writer, I was not just green with envy, but red, yellow, orange, purple with jealousy. The mood was bordering on black! All the colours that this creative genius plays around with in Mandala, his ceramic studio.
You see, here is a man who is both an architect and a potter. A profession I longed to practise and a hobby I always wished to pursue. Both of which gave me the miss! Seriously, I am most saddened. I wonder if it isn’t too late to pursue a crash course in pottery even now…
But first, let me stand corrected. And get the right terminology. It’s not a potter we are talking about, but a ceramist. And they don’t bake all those lovely things they create, they fire them in a kiln, not an oven!
What a job, what a life Adil has created for himself. And how content and happy and exuberant he seems in that space. A successful architect turned into a more successful artist and ceramist. But more about that later.
When you learn Adil Writer lives in Auroville, you want to snap a finger and say, ‘Bingo, that fits!’ Yes, sure it does. A lot of creative people do live in Auroville and Pondicherry next door, which was already well-known for its terracotta. However, a new form of ceramic movement which began here in the mid of the last century was to change the shape of things to come. But how did Adil land up there, right on the cusp of the new millennium? Only to stay on and on and on…
Let me tell you his story.
A Dadar Parsi Colony boy, Adil was all set to become a civil engineer. That’s what his dad, an engineer, was grooming him to be. He had already filled in his entrance form at VJTI, when one evening, his neighbour Feruzi, also his English tuition teacher, gave him a book to read. Adil did just that and finished reading it in one go, the same night. Next morning, at breakfast, he found himself asking his dad, "Will you mind, if I studied architecture instead…?" The book, Fountainhead by Ayn Rand is a big, thick book, and young Adil was totally enamoured by all things architecture that he had read up the previous night. I can’t blame him. Ayn Rand had that effect. All of us who read her Atlas Shrugged at St. Xavier's, in the late ‘70s, wanted to be just like Dagny Taggart, the protagonist of that iconic book.
So that’s how Adil became an architect. Because of a book. Five years at the Sir J.J. College of Architecture, some work experience at Khareghat & Associates and he was winging it to Texas and the University of Houston for his Masters in Urban Design. From there it was straight to a job in San Francisco. “It was fantastic,” says Adil, “we really were the first batch internationally in the field of architecture who had computer ‘CAD’ knowledge, and designing was really thrilling. Well, CAD (computer-assisted design) was a software that replaced manual drafting, helping create designs in 2D and 3D, it had to be revolutionary.
For whatever reasons, Adil could not see himself spending the rest of his life in the US and so, within two years, he returned home and joined Talati And Panthaky. It was 1986. He happily worked there for the next 12 years, but let’s cut to the last few years of his time with the company.
In 1996, he was going on a tour of the south of India with a cousin from America when Ruby, a colleague at T&P, asked him to please go to Auroville and pick up an admission form for herself. She wished to go for a course to learn pottery there. Nice guy that Adil is, he did. Only to find the form still lying on her table at the office a year later. It hadn’t been easy getting that form, so Adil told her, “Hey, look if you are not going, I will fill in the form for myself!” And he did. And even got a reply. Short, curt, but positive. ‘Course starts the first Monday of March. Be there!’ It was not easy to gain admission at Ray Meeker and Deborah Smith’s Golden Bridge Pottery. The couple just took in a few sincere ones every year. Adil quickly got into his tiny Zen and wheeled it to Auroville via Bangalore!
The purpose of narrating this delightful little story is to bring home the point that life has a strange way of manoeuvering your destiny. As luck would have it, Adil was supervising an architectural project in Bangalore for T&P which would go on for a year. So, instead of flying to Bangalore from Bombay, he would now do so from Madras, even as he was enrolled at the pottery school. Well, instead of one year, the project went on to two and Ray was so pleased with his student he allowed him to continue the second year. So involved was Adil in his newfound passion, he found himself quitting his job! His home was here now. The architect had metamorphosed into the world’s newest ceramist! Adil nostalgically informs he still has that note from Ray Meeker. I think he should frame it. Or better still, cast it in stone!
Elaborating on his decision to stay on in Auroville, Adil says, “If you ask me was there that one defining ‘eureka’ moment when I realised this was it, then the answer is no. It was just a smooth transition. There was no, ‘this is my real calling’ moment. I just felt I can’t go back to my old life now.” His family, who were waiting for Adil to return to Bombay, find a nice Parsi girl, get married, make babies, make money, make more buildings, didn’t know what was going on… but being Parsi, they were cool enough to accept it. Adil, on the other hand, was already on his way to becoming an official resident of Auroville, in itself not an easy process.
In 2002, Mandala found him. He got working, firing away, at a pottery studio started by Anamika & Chinmayi, German and Dutch respectively. The three worked happily there until the girls returned to their respective countries a few years ago, leaving Adil as sole boss of Mandala Pottery. Which today is possibly the largest ceramic studio in South India, creating handmade, functional tableware.
So 20 years on, Adil is a well-respected, admired and sought-after ceramic artist. His style of work is established as happy, splashy and colourful. Let’s understand some more from the potter himself! “Yes, we do have fun giving happy glazes to our work. But first let me please tell you how beholden I am to my gurus, Ray Meeker and Deborah Smith. They have been at Auroville since the '70s and they alone are responsible for having put Auroville and Pondicherry on the world ceramic map. Hundreds of students who have learnt the art through them give rise to thousands more. And now there is a large community of their students scattered all over India, and perhaps the world. Wonderful couple.”
 Adil goes on to enlighten me further. “You know, in the olden days, pottery coming out of Auroville and Pondicherry was all brown and beige, very beautiful but monochromatic, limited in scope. Over the years, many studios came up and each of them started to develop their own look and style. Had to, because everything couldn’t look the same. Each one had to find its niche, its buyers in order to sustain itself. Don’t forget there have been plenty of foreigners coming in with big export orders. Including locals; restaurateurs, hoteliers, spa owners, interior designers, architects, all wanting choices, so studios developing their own distinct look certainly helped. Now what you have is a wide variety of artware. Some have a neat, clean, contemporary look, others jazzy, snazzy, yet others believe in abstract or geometrical. We at Mandala finish our pots in happy glazing!”
I was quite fascinated to learn that the different looks are achieved through the different processes of firing; be it wood-firing or soda-firing, or by using gas. As novices we do take for granted what goes into creating these ceramic pieces.
 Seeing images of what Adil has created in the past few years, I would put him down as a versatile ceramic artist. For while there is the happy, funky stuff, there is also the quiet, soft and subdued, matt-finished products.  “Yes, of course, I adapt to the clients' needs and taste. After all, he knows what he wants.”  Like when AD Singh’s restaurant, Olive, was opening in Bandra, Chef Rishim Sachdeva personally went over to Auroville to explain to Adil what he wanted. And Adil delivered. So if you found the plates and platters at Olive particularly heavy, it's because Chef Sachdeva ordered them so. He likes the sound that emanates from good cutlery on heavy ceramic. “Believe me, its aura-matic, that sound. Combined with the aromatic food, it's magic,” says Chef Rishim Sachdeva, on phone from London, where he is now running Tendril, his very successful restaurant. He adds,  “I have researched and met a number of potters, but nobody comes even close to what Adil is capable of. Every single plate I ordered was a true reflection of my vision, from the weight, to the texture and the colour. Every single touch was exactly what I wanted.”
 “Tell me, what is your disposition like when you are working?” I ask Adil. “I let the clay do the talking. It may be a cliché, but it's appropriate. I can never sit with a drawing and say, that’s what I will make now. No, it's spontaneous, the flow. How each piece will end up, I have no clue at the beginning. For example, if I am labouring too hard over a piece in hand, I know it's not happening. I may break and re-mould it, or if it’s a canvas I am working on I will paint over it anew.”
Which brings me to the painter in Adil. Prolific, as he is, he also works on another medium. He paints on canvas using clay. His painting studio is in the basement at his home (the only time in 20 years that he went back to his drawing board, or CAD, was to design his own home) in the Sharnga community, which is 10 minutes from Mandala Pottery Studio.
He pours clay paint over large pieces of canvas, moves it around, lets it flow with his feelings and waits for the next day to see the results. How it has dried out, how the colours and the design have evolved!
Adil has high voltage energy. When he isn’t firing away in Auroville, working at a furious pace, he is jetting all over the world. Spain, Taiwan, Indonesia, Japan, China, Australia… Whether for a conference of the International Academy of Ceramics – of which he is member – or exhibitions and invitations to far off lands.
His tryst with ceramics in Japan was a very unique experience, he says. He was there for three months, teaching and learning. A cultural exchange for an artist is indeed enlightening, empowering. He was thrilled he learnt a new art form – that of Japanese calligraphy called shodo which he incorporated in his work. At the end of the three months of being in residence there, he had an exhibition which he named Himitsu te Uso: Secrets and Lies. Didn’t go down too well with a traditional, old Japanese visitor at the gallery who believed neither secrets nor lies fit in with the Japanese way of life!
Now, Adil is gearing up for his Table Manners, an exhibition he has curated along with Shayonti Salvi comprising cutting edge, functional tableware created by 15 ceramic artists from across India. They will display their works of art on a 1x1 metre concrete table, with just a naked bulb shining on the display. On the walls, you will find ceramic murals, all food-based. Sounds intriguing. This will be a month-long exhibition, till November 6, at Tarana Khubchandani’s gallery at Worli, Art and Soul.
“What can I say, this exhibition, no thanks to COVID, has been postponed twice. I am keeping my fingers crossed it goes through this time!” says Adil, half smiling, half worried, but confident of its success. “Everyone has worked very hard at it.”
I want to talk about Adil’s pet peeve. He hates it that art and craft are not defined separately. That pottery, which comes under craft, does not get its due respect. Financially, too, it is not taken as seriously as say a painting, he expounds. It started almost 18 years ago when he was exhibiting at Tina Ambani’s art show, Harmony, which was all the rage. Adil noticed a lady hovering around his stall and making many visits and finally showing interest in one of his pieces. “She asked me the price and when I told her what it was, she was astounded. She said, ‘Arey lekin, ye to mitti ka bana hai!' Now I was astounded and upset. Here was a woman who had just bought a painting for a few lakhs, a few stalls on!”  From then on, indignant Adil was on a crusade to bring ceramics into the mainstream. Put it under the spotlight. He even had a collection titled, The Crusade.
Personally, the man has many ardent collectors. One I would like to mention is Dr Raj Kubba and his wife Dr Asha Kubba, both dermatologists living in Delhi “Oh, they are amazing people. They have such an eye. I am fortunate that they appreciate my work. You know I can trace my career graph in their home. From my earliest pieces to the newest. I can witness my creative transformation there. I remember once when Raj was visiting Mandala, he asked me if he could walk through what we call my ceramic graveyard. An area which has all the junked pieces scattered around, broken or discarded for whatever reason. Ambling through the mess he picked up a small slab and curiously examined it, turning it over, he asked casually if he could keep it. Will you believe it, the next time I was at his home in Delhi, I was eating cheese out of this junked piece now converted into a stately cheese platter." That’s so Wabi Sabi, I thought to myself. The Kubbas must be special people, not just special collectors.
 Another supporter and collector turned friend is from neighbouring Sri Lanka. Architect, Channa Daswatte has been teaming up with Adil for many years. “My most interesting assignments have come from him. A mural for a 20 ft. wall at a resort, multiple pieces for an extensive wall in a coffee shop, resorts in Kandy… I have great memories of every visit to Sri Lanka. I am flattered that he has three tableware sets of mine in his personal collection,” says Adil. Well, Adil will be happy to know this is what Channa, who I have met a few years ago, told me when I spoke to him in Sri Lanka. “Adil’s work for tablescapes, as I call them, engages fully with the potential for enhancing the experience of sitting at a table for something beyond the consumption of food.” Take a bow Adil, that is a huge compliment coming from one of the world’s most leading architects, a protégé of Geoffery Baba, no less. In fact, take another bow, for this is what Channa also added. “You know, he is never satisfied with making a beautiful thing. Which he does with great aplomb, but is also making the viewer think of this world which we inhabit by making subtle comments on its materiality, history and sometimes even its psychology. That’s what makes engaging with his work such a wholly fulfilling experience.”
Well, it’s a good thing that Adil Writer is a workaholic. The pandemic may have delayed his exhibition but it didn’t throw the spanner in his works. On the contrary, orders just seem to be pouring in, he says. “The busiest I have been in 20 years has been this year. It’s not just spas and resorts and cafés and so on, but ordinary people. You know like home-makers, mainly women who call and discuss if they could have this or that… It is as if suddenly everyone wants to have handmade, ceramic tableware!”
Now isn’t that nice. And am I not glad that all the treks I made decades ago, to Contemporary Arts at Nepean Sea Road, bunking college, sinking monthly pocket money into buying expensive, beautifully glazed kitchen things have got back in vogue now. Ceramics are de rigueur these days. I feel great and just as happy as Adil Writer.