CHENNAI: Can one imagine Chennai without its cinema banners, neon hand‑painted typography covering every business, or a mural next to a railway station? Art has shaped the city for centuries from temple architecture to Bharatanatyam, Carnatic music, and craft traditions. But for generations of Chennaiites, the most immediate art was on the streets: giant cinema hoardings, political cut‑outs, and hand‑painted signs that defined the city’s visual culture.
Mara Varman, an advertising consultant based in Chennai used to work with major advertising companies under a production house. “The years from 1992 to 2000 were the golden years of Chennai, then Madras. We worked on more than 500 commercials, hiring carpenters, painters, and banner artists for large‑scale sets,” he says. Studios buzzed with activity, colors chosen to match products, and artisans indispensable to every frame.
In the 1980s and 1990s, hand‑painting was everywhere. Cinema hoardings towered over Triplicane and Royapettah, political parties commissioned massive wall paintings, and advertising agencies relied on artisans to bring products to life.
A documentary filmmaker, Gita Hudson has documented many artists ranging from banner painters to craftsman weavers since 2004. Her 2011 docu-film “Deskilling of Art” on banner artists in Tamil Nadu, as part of a huge international seminar at DakshinaChitra on “Street Art: Popular Expression in Urban India.” She captured the decline of Chennai’s hand‑painting tradition, interviewing senior banner artists and capturing how flex printing reshaped their livelihoods. Recalling her own memories of the city, Hudson said, “Earlier, there were huge banners, small banners, movie stars cut‑outs were common in my childhood days.” She points to key figures like JP Krishna, a legendary set designer who was well-known for his skills and techniques designing film sets, used to work on different banner sizes with 10 feet tall banners.
But later, they adapted to changing times, establishing a small digital studio for his worker‑artists. Many of these painters, once independent artisans, found continuity in his studio bridging the world of hand‑painted banners with the emerging digital era. Hudson said, “Chennai’s artisans were so skilled they were flown to Mumbai and even abroad to work on film sets”, underscoring how central their craft was to the city’s identity.
Artist Lovely Karuppasamy, a hand‑painter with over 25 years of experience, used the art as both livelihood and passion. “I began as a school drawing master after college, then moved into cinema banners and wall paintings. We worked with the lowest materials but achieved the highest finishing,” he says.
Karuppasamy shared his technique, “We used bamboo tati boards for a simple canvas then put Gada low quality cotton cloth and paper for finishing. The cloth is primed with distemper, pigments and enamels mixed by hand.” He added, “ Earlier we only used primary colours such as red, black and blue as the medium. Later, fluorescent colors like orange, pink and green were added for lightning effects.”
Further, reflecting on that era, he added, “At that time living expenses were low. We used to charge on the basis of square feet ranging from Rs 10-50, which was sufficient to support a family.”
The decline of hand painting art began in the late 2000s with the arrival of flex printing and legal restrictions by the government. Varman said, “Slowly, when computers and digital formats came, manual work was reduced. 75% of banner artists shifted to other jobs.”
Hudson explains the fate of artisans who now struggle to survive as, “No taker, nobody to buy. People want cheaper stuff.” Moreover, she says“ What is lost is a whole craft nurtured for hundreds of years. Flex printing cannot replace hand‑painted artwork.”
Artist Karuppasamy experienced the transition firsthand, “Painting was reduced. Artists spread out. Only five or ten people remained in the city.” Also, he explains, “Flex is not permanent, which will fade in 6 months due to its low quality. But, painting is a permanent solution for 10–15 years. But flex changed everything, and artists had to change jobs.”
Hudson draws parallels with other forms of art like handloom weavers and said, “From handloom sarees to powerloom sarees. Most common people can’t afford intricate Kalamkari anymore. The same thing happened to Chennai’s hand‑painting artisans.” She explains, “One major thing contributed to this was the government’s removal of arts, which added to the decline.”
In today’s digital world, A.I and other softwares cannot replace this artform such as sculpture, or hand painted banners with mass production of the original work. “What is lost is a whole craft nurtured for hundreds of years. Flex printing cannot replace the hand‑painted artwork. When you lose the art and craft of a society, everything is lost — life becomes mundane,” Hudson says.
Moreover, the art has survived in fragments of portrait commissions, memorial paintings, and occasional murals still keep the skill alive. “An artist will be an artist his whole life… even if he changes profession for his daily bread, this skill cannot leave him,” said Hudson.
Over time, Artist Karuppasamy adapted with change. “I upload my work on Instagram. Clients in London and the UK see it instantly. Portraits of ministers, celebrities give me recognition and keep me going,” he said.
Flex printing may have replaced the craft, but the memory of towering cinema cut‑outs and vibrant banner murals always lingers. It has transformed and adapted over time which can be seen across metro pillars, school walls, and flyovers, telling a new story. As Husdon reminds, “When you lose the art and craft of a society, everything is lost.”