Opening Doorz
“Celebrating Life”
By Uttam Ghosh | Opening Doorz Editorial |October 31, 2026 Ciby Samuel lives in Kamothe, a township built on marshy land, nestled between the highway to Pune and the Harbour […]
By Uttam Ghosh | Opening Doorz Editorial |October 31, 2026
Ciby Samuel lives in Kamothe, a township built on marshy land, nestled between the highway to Pune and the Harbour Line railway system, the lifeline of Navi Mumbai. Most people living in its fairly uniform cluster of high-rises have migrated from Mumbai’s suburbs. Not too long ago, one could see Kolis moving about in their small boats, fishing in the waters. Strangely enough, this cluster is now also home to several visual artists.
It is perhaps fitting that Ciby calls his solo exhibition Reverie, being held from November 2 to 7, 2026, at the Kamalnayan Bajaj Art Gallery, Bajaj Bhavan, Nariman Point, Mumbai.
As Ciby explains, when he paints, he rarely feels like an observer recording a scene. Instead, he finds himself stepping into a waking dream, a suspension where memory, sound and thought dissolve into the canvas. Naming the exhibition Reverie, he says, felt less like an artistic choice than an inevitability. “To be in reverie is to be pleasantly adrift in one’s inner world, lingering in that delicate, quiet margin where the conscious mind surrenders to the subconscious,” he says, his eyes gazing into the distance, almost like a sage lost in contemplation.
His home, which also doubles as his studio, is neat and filled with canvases. Some adorn the walls, while others are carefully rolled up and stored away. As I walked in to interview him for Opening Doorz, his father showed me the different places where Ciby keeps his artwork.
Excerpts:
My brother inspired me. I used to help him when he drew, and I also watched cartoons on television and tried copying them. Later, I began visiting the Vashi church regularly. St Thomas Orthodox Church had several oil paintings, and I was fascinated by their colours. The stained-glass windows also caught my attention.
Baby Chengannur, a Kerala-based artist known for his portraits and natural shades of colour, painted them. I liked his colour palette. His work did not have that typical calendar-art style. I did not have a camera of my own, so I kept going back to look at the paintings. I had no idea that art could become a career. I would copy paintings from prints.
Fortunately, I had a good art teacher in school who introduced me to Sir J.J. School of Art and its campus. That gave me exposure to the possibilities of pursuing art as a career. He would ask me to convert black-and-white drawings into colour using watercolours.
By then, I was very clear that I wanted to join an art school.
I initially joined Model Art Institute, where I completed my foundation course. Later, I got admission to Sir J.J. School of Art, Mumbai.
Church paintings influenced me to focus on portraits and landscapes during my academic years. As I progressed towards my Master’s, I initially wanted to develop academic realism. However, my teachers encouraged me to question my process and think differently.
I began questioning portraiture and the way I approached it. I started sketching my friends and chatting with them while making their portraits. I liked that relationship with the person sitting in front of me. They were not just models.
During my Master’s, I completely changed the way I worked on portraits. For instance, I would take a zoomed-in view of a hand and make that my portrait. I debated with my teachers and experimented a lot.
I went completely blank and began experiencing anxiety. I went to Bhopal because I wanted to get away from Mumbai.
I worked with some artists there for a few months. I also wanted to move away from a certain group of artists and their rigid ways of looking at art, where everything seemed to revolve around doing portraits.
My association with the artists in Bhopal took me towards abstraction. I have not exhibited that series of works anywhere.
I was adamant that I had to continue doing portraits. I had to confront the criticism about the limitations of portraiture. I argued that even if we did not have models and had only figures and figurative drawings, I could find ways to overcome those limitations.
I returned to my childhood, my roots, and where I belonged. I started looking at paintings in the church again. I asked myself, why couldn’t I paint them in my own way? I began painting monks and scenes inside a church. I began capturing their attire and exploring these subjects.
My style had changed. I moved from academic realism to bold, spontaneous impasto and patchwork. I developed a lot of confidence in my art. Impressionism, Post-Impressionism and Abstract Expressionism influenced me. My work blends all these movements.
The old masters, such as Sambhaji Kadam, Baburao Sadwelkar, and Palshikar, also influenced me during my Bachelor’s course.
I started thinking more deeply about monasticism, solitude and the moods associated with them. I moved away from church interiors and began exploring ascetics. I heard about groups of people who live in forests or caves. Inspired, I started reading about them.
Syrian traditions also influenced me, naturally, because I belong to the Syrian Orthodox Church. I started listening to Syrian chants and hymns. My imagery began taking on a distinctly Middle Eastern character.
I would listen to the hymns while making my art. I did not predefine what I was going to create. The music and the painting process came together.
The monks are imaginary. They emerge from the music I listen to while I draw and paint. Of course, there are influences, and some of the portraits may resemble people.
In one of my earlier exhibitions, some of my works were said to look like those of Nicholas Roerich. I had never even seen a picture of him before!
I recently read a book called Towards the Silver Crest of the Himalayas. I am not a frequent reader. If I come across a book that seems interesting, I pick it up and read it.
I travelled to Ladakh recently. I liked the mood in the monasteries and tried capturing that feeling in my work. I don’t necessarily want to depict a particular place. I like travelling, and I sketch as I go.
I usually work with dark images, but I play with viridian green. I use watercolour washes and layer dark colours over them. This leaves behind little beads of emerald and neon green. These are not deliberate or predefined. I play with the colours and wait for the final result. It makes me feel good.
These are fundamentals we have been taught, and they remain in our subconscious as we experiment with contrasting colours. The darkness could come from images of caves in my mind and from my visits to Ajanta and Ellora. I like to balance the bright and the dark. I look for the middle path, neutrality and even dullness in my work. I am trying to change my palette now. I have been working with my existing colours for quite some time.
During my college days, I sketched directly with a brush rather than a charcoal stick. Instead of using ultramarine for sketching, I used viridian green.
The green also came from the stained-glass windows of the Vashi church, which I visited as a child.
I don’t plan anything. Whenever I try to plan, everything goes haywire. I have tried planning, but then I begin to feel that I am making something rather than creating. To me, creating and making are different.
In my recent series of works, the landscapes came about automatically.
I used to dream. Visuals would come to me in my dreams. I started following these visuals. I used to write down my dreams and recreate those images in my paintings. Changes are happening slowly within me. I am not only speaking with the monk…
Painting is a haven for me. I take a break from the chaos of city life. In reality, I can’t find a peaceful place. So I try to create that feeling in my paintings, enjoy that peace and later come back to reality.
Perhaps that is what Reverie is all about. For Ciby, painting is more than an expression of what he sees; it is a journey into what he feels, remembers and dreams. The monks, the landscapes, the colours and the imagery are all part of an inner world that continues to evolve. He may not always know where a painting will take him, but he is happy to let the process unfold.
In a city that rarely pauses for breath, Ciby finds his quiet space on canvas. And perhaps, in Reverie, he invites us to pause awhile and step into that world with him.
Image Credit: Ciby Samuel
Reverie
November 2 to 7, 2026
Kamalnayan Bajaj Art Gallery
Bajaj Bhavan, Nariman Point
Mumbai.
Between 11:00 AM and 7:00 PM.
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Sudharak Olwe, Master of Light and the Mirror of the Marginalised
Shalma Amoncar: From Photography to Watercolour Mastery
