MUMBAI, NOV 3: Images from morning to night, from script to screen, from Pather Panchali to Agantuk — all captured on camera and stored as negatives. 90,000 frames that give more than a glimpse into Satyajit Ray, the director, actor, script-writer, illustrator, musician, dancer, cameraman, editor, the man. This unrivalled archive of one of the world’s best known film-makers is struggling to find a publisher. Nemai Ghosh, once known as Ray’s shadow, who documented moments of Ray’s cinematic journey, wonders if Ray has already been forgotten.
In Mumbai, for the opening of his exhibition Faces in Time London-based Genesis Publications Limited, on its part, approached corporate groups but did not receive any positive response, says Ghosh. Its interest in publishing the book waned. Ghosh wants to use his limited time in Mumbai to speak to film lovers and gain support. “Both Andrew and I will be devastated if the book does not see the light of the day,” the 64-year-old photographer laments, “Even if I have to spend the remaining days of my life in publishing it, I will.” The rare photographs show Ray’s method of working. “One photograph which has rarely been published shows Manikda dancing with the dhol in his hands on the sets of Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne, demonstrating to the actor Robi Ghosh, how he wanted him to act,” recalls Ghosh. “I have shots of him sketching the shot divisions, acting out a scene for actors, thinking about a scene, at the editing machine, composing music. He used to be completely immersed in the job oblivious to his surroundings.” Also reproduced for the first time are Ray’s water-colour illustrations from the 1951 storyboard for a film about sitar player Ravi Shankar which was not made. Unwilling to say how much money has been invested into the book, he says that once an organisation or a body agrees to buy some copies as corporate gifts or library copies, they will be available at a reduced rate. The book runs to over 360 pages, printed on heavy 200 gsm matt art paper and is image-varnished throughout. Each copy is quarter-bound, housed in a slipcase, individually numbered, and signed by Ghosh and Robinson. It is dedicated to renowned photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson who had provided the foreword for Satyajit Ray at 40. The absence of enthusiasm and lack of interest that has faced Ghosh and his publishers in the last one year has shocked them. “Does this mean that these moments of vision will die with me?” asks the man who lives with Ray all around him. Poignant question.