When Edgar Pinto’s wife, Bree, was pregnant with their daughter, an Australian artist couple, John and Viki Murray—who were travelling around Fort Kochi and creating art in various public spaces—offered to paint a muster of storks on his compound wall. It has been nearly two years now and in the years to come, the birds’ black-and-pink hues will inevitably fade under the assault of Kerala’s torrential rain and sweltering heat. Nevertheless, for Pinto, this piece of art is just as precious as the many rare antiques, sculptures and paintings that hold their individual prominence in his 4,000-square-foot two-storeyed home. “I do not regard myself as an art collector because I don’t eye art with any intention to ‘collect’. I simply love surrounding myself with it,” says the hotelier and ga…
When Edgar Pinto’s wife, Bree, was pregnant with their daughter, an Australian artist couple, John and Viki Murray—who were travelling around Fort Kochi and creating art in various public spaces—offered to paint a muster of storks on his compound wall. It has been nearly two years now and in the years to come, the birds’ black-and-pink hues will inevitably fade under the assault of Kerala’s torrential rain and sweltering heat. Nevertheless, for Pinto, this piece of art is just as precious as the many rare antiques, sculptures and paintings that hold their individual prominence in his 4,000-square-foot two-storeyed home. “I do not regard myself as an art collector because I don’t eye art with any intention to ‘collect’. I simply love surrounding myself with it,” says the hotelier and gallerist. “I don’t care if an artist is a newbie or has never had a show. If his or her work moves me intensely, emotionally, in a way that cannot be easily described in words, then I know it’s the one for me.” Pinto talks about art without giving into the language of critique, despite being the owner of the iconic Kashi Art Gallery—a restored Dutch heritage house in Fort Kochi that has been hosting art exhibitions and residency programmes for nearly three decades.
The beige and off-white walls, and wooden flooring in the living room lend the perfect setting for a striking wooden bust of a horse picked up from Mumbai-based atelier Pooranawalla and a 19th-century opaque watercolour of a tiger, which earlier belonged to the Maharana of Mewar, purchased from the Prahlad Bubbar Gallery in London. The wrought-iron chair from Dtale Modern in Kochi and the monochromatic couch from Kochi-based furniture house The Lofts, along with a carpet from Colombo, all complement the overall minimalism.
It is not surprising to see a profusion of works in Pinto’s three-bedroom home. The 58-year-old and his wife are unwavering minimalists, and their brief to their longtime architect friends, Ramesh J Tharakan and Monolita Chatterjee of Design Combine Architects & Designers, was just that. “They were clear they wanted a clean palette,” says Tharakan. “We stripped it down to a bare minimum so their collection of art could take precedence over everything else. Also, they were keen on natural ventilation, both in terms of light and air.”
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Multifunctional spaces flow into each other all over the house in seamless transitions. The seating area in the living room, with a colourful artwork by Sri Lankan artist Vajira Gunawardena, looks into the kitchen area and the outdoor garden.
The team remembers the original house as an uninspiring structure with a drive-way and a car porch that they knocked down to make way for a water body with stepping stones that leads to the main door. Once inside, it feels as if there are hardly any walls that sharply articulate the indoor and outdoor areas. What could easily be mistaken as a glass façade are actually walls of fine steel mesh that oer transparency for the lush green views all around—a clever choice that prevents pests from sneaking inside, and yet keeps the home pleasantly cool and well-lit.
Fine steel-mesh walls around the dining area sets the open-air vibe. Wooden idols of dancing puppets from Fort Kochi bring in a spot of colour to the otherwise muted palette established by the stone floors set in concrete and the custom-made dining table.
The open kitchen area flows into the living room with an overhang of Balinese wicker lamps. While a massive black-and-white artwork by Sumedh Rajendran wraps itself around two walls, a century-old life-sized statue of Jesus offers a lovely glimpse of Christian church art in the corner facing the kitchen area. A multiheaded antique horse from Rajasthan, though small, is unmissable. The stairs to the upper floor, suspended over the koi pond, has a sculptural charm of its own.
Masks from Karnataka, Sri Lanka and Pondicherry, picked up from antique stores in Jew Town, along with a painting from Goan artist Ramdas Gadekar’s helmet series, ador the bathroom attached to the guest bedroom on the ground floor.
Pinto’s fascination with art and craft fuels the dominating aesthetic principle. A passing gaze from any vantage point reveals a sumptuous hoard amassed from Gujarat, Odisha, Tamil Nadu, Rajasthan, Kerala, Turkey, Iraq, Mexico, London, New York and Sri Lanka. Wooden tigers from Burma; ornate play horses from Rajasthan; a massive sculpture of a man in verdigris copper placed on a plinth surrounded by water in one corner of the dining area; temple, folk art masks and heads from antique stores all over India and distant countries; a row of sculptures of solemn men that were originally used as turban stands in rural mansions; paintings of hunting expeditions that once belonged to royal palaces; a three-headed Ganesha by Riyas Komu in the garden outside; an overhang of Balinese wicker lamps; and above all, a recurring presence of Ganesha and Jesus. He wryly admits that there have been times when a renowned work of art lauded unanimously by art connoisseurs has failed to strike a chord with him. “I always ask myself if I am being seduced by snob value,” he says. There is no arrogance to his stance though. He candidly admits that he had no opportunity to gain an understanding of art while growing up in Kerala or during his years spent working in Saudi Arabia. It’s only when he moved back to India in 2004 and took over the ownership of a 300-year-old Dutch heritage building—what is now the Old Harbour Hotel—that his tryst with art began on a serendipitous note. “German architect Karl Damschen was the one to re-store and renovate it. When we went around buying art for the hotel is when I finally realised the power a sculpture or a painting could wield. Initially, I would only look for illustrious names, the ones everyone recommended that I ‘should’ have. Now, I choose to respect my instincts.”
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Bree and Edgar pose against two of their favourite works—Ganesha and Lakshmi by Vanita Gupta, an artist known for her signature black paintings.
A partial glass roof above the dining area acts as a canvas for the leaves falling off the old Banyan tree outside and a Verdigris copper sculpture by Sri Lankan artist Sanjaya Geekiyanage, placed on a plinth surrounded by water, nudges a moment of contemplation.
A custom-made mirror, leaning against a wall outside the guest bedroom, makes a case for function and form.
The house borrows inspiration from the tenets of traditional architecture as well as the heritage context of Fort Kochi, while responding to the needs of a modern couple who wanted to live with nature.
There are some pieces that he takes the time to look at every day. For instance, a nearly 100-year-old life-sized wooden statue of Christ in one corner of the living room. There is something human and vulnerable about the figure, with its contemplative, solemn expression. “Christian church art is seriously underrated. Sometimes I wonder if he is trying to tell me something,” says Pinto with a smile. His eyes sparkle when he talks about his two children, his wife and his pets. Would he want his children to grow up as art connoisseurs? And he says that he does take them to galleries though they are too young to understand anything. “My wife and I are more keen to have our kids develop a loving, respectful bond with all the rescued cats and dogs we have at home.” In a corner, his friendly mongrel, Saint, nuzzles the feet of his 10-month-old daughter, Bodhi, as she gurgles and touches his ear. If there is anything more beautiful than art, it can only be empathy.