Bengaluru's brush with urban sketching continues

Urban sketching meetups continue to attract Bengalureans in steady numbers.

More than 15 participants are turning up at these gatherings this year on an average when compared to 10-12 pre-pandemic.

Urban sketching is the practice of drawing outdoors — buildings, parks, cafes, streets and crowds, whatever catches your attention on the location, in the moment.

It has become a global movement to capture the spirit of the city on canvas, in drawing books, on digital pads, started by Urban Sketchers, a nonprofit from Washington, USA.

The Bengaluru chapter started in 2017 and has 2,100 followers on Instagram. These ‘sketchmeets’ are free and open to people of all skill levels and age.

Participants meet at a pre-decided spot with their art tools, disperse to make a sketch, and regroup in a few hours to show, discuss and photograph what they have created. No marks or criticism is given — it isn’t an art class.

Rohit Kulkarni, who is an organising member of Urban Sketchers Bengaluru, says the interest in creative expression has gone up since the Covid outbreak. “It gave people time to pick up new hobbies and revive forgotten interests,” he says.

Harlur Main Road resident Vikas M K is one of them. A software engineer, he discovered the Bengaluru community on Instagram last year, around the time he was actively posting the watercolour paintings he was making at home. “I used to draw during my travels even before I joined the group. I did not know it was called urban sketching,” says the 35-year-old. Today, he likens an urban sketch to “a photograph but one that is many more times sensorial”.

He is also enjoying the group outings. “One time, we met at a small park in Indiranagar. I sketched an ice apple seller outside it. One participant drew the railings on the park fence. Another guy drew a dustbin he spotted there! It is interesting to see how one subject, one place, can offer so many perspectives,” Vikas explains.

Techie Ravleen Kaur also discovered the group during the pandemic. Signages, benches, and debris (called ‘urban uglies’) may not be worth framing on the walls but for Ravleen, they make the city what it is and are worth documenting.

Now the 28-year-old carries a pocket sketchbook all the time. “Once, I missed a stop in the metro train just so I could complete the sketch of women commuters. Sketching helps you slow down,” the Mahadevapura resident says. Freelance children book illustrator Akshatha Suryanarayana has been drawing outdoors for much longer. She has journalled the elephant statue outside the MG Road metro station to the Sapper War Memorial in Richmond Town and the Hoysaleshwara Temple in Belur town in Hassan.

“My sketchbook reminds me how far I have come. On the one hand, my lines and composition of the scene have improved. On the other hand, imperfect drawings don’t upset me,” says the Padmanabhanagar resident.

Even others agree that urban sketching is liberating — free from rules of painting or expectations of art studios. Crouching on a street corner, standing under a tree, sitting in a cafe to draw as people walk by and throw looks or make requests to draw them, takes time to get used to. But it becomes an act of reclaiming the city for leisure and observing the way it moves and reacts. “Somebody walked up to a participant to say the tree drawn did not look like a tree,” Rohit recalls over a laugh. On other times, cafe staff and peanut and corn sellers reciprocate with big smiles, he says.

Follow the group on @uskbengaluru on Instagram