What connects the domestic arrivals section at Rajiv Gandhi International Airport, Hyderabad, the VIP lounge at Hyderabad International Convention Center (HICC) and Terminal 1 of Delhi Airport? Among the three is a sculptural representation of a pastoral Telangana woman by renowned artist Thota Vaikuntam.
Chhota Vaikuntam with one of his statues at Hyderabad Airport. Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
These eight-foot resined fiberglass heads, painted in automotive colors by the artist, burst with excitement – a red bottu(dot) Turmeric-stained forehead, ornate jewelery on the nose and ears, elaborate hairstyles, and kohl-rimmed eyes radiate liveliness. The master artist does not create himself; Instead, a team of artists in a Delhi workshop brings his paintings to life in three dimensions.
Raj Manohar Thota, the artist’s son, says, “With these painted heads adorned with traditional jewellery, the place turns into a cultural hub. There are subtle variations in each exhibition, but one is instantly recognizable as the iconic ‘Telangana woman’ created by Vaikuntam.”
It’s a quiet morning in Jayabheri Meadows, a gated community in Hyderabad. wearing a gray kurta and lungiVaikuntham is wearing a face mask, Ratan sits on the sofa. “My children ask me to be careful and wear a mask as a precaution. They say it is for my well-being,” says the 83-year-old man.
Some statues Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
On a nearby table are unfinished fiberglass statues – an eight-inch and a 12-inch Telangana man and woman. Pointing towards them, Vaikuntam talks about his central theme: the vibrant depiction of rural Telangana and its bustling life that has long defined his work. “I have never been away from my people,” he says. “But there are also statues of Ganesha and dancing Shiva (Nataraja).”
infection in statues
With a touch of tradition Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
On the advice of a friend, Vaikuntam’s signature paintings took the form of sculpture. Immersed in the creative process, he worked closely with sculptors who translated his two-dimensional shapes into three-dimensional forms. “Sometimes, the team doesn’t understand the traditional elements in my paintings,” he says. “Let me explain – Nethi’s Crest Untadi, Mallepulu Pettukuntaru (The men keep a bun of hair, and the women wear jasmine flowers).”
This year marked a new chapter in her artistic journey, with public art exhibits showcasing her inspiration – a rural Telangana woman, re-imagined as a sculptural head. “Again a friend suggested focusing only on the head,” he recalls. “I agreed. You can only look at a full-figured statue for so long. However, the face leaves a lasting impression. We always remember the face.”
Padmashree awardees often travel to Delhi to collaborate with sculptors. “Art lovers look at the work and say, This is the head of Vaikuntam (This sculptural head is made by Vaikuntam),” he laughs, his voice filled with childlike joy. Even as he embraces this new form of expression, his artistic voice has remained constant for more than four decades. He has never felt repetitive with his chosen subject – instead, consistent practice has helped him hone the nuances, carve out his own niche and carve out a distinct identity. ”Finding an identity in creative work is not easy. Aadi Adrishtam (It is a virtue). “I never thought I’d find mine.”
Sculpture at Delhi Airport Terminal 1 | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
He admits that this change in perspective came to him late. He recalls, “When my teacher KG Subramanian once asked what my identity was, I didn’t know. I asked him how to find it.” Subramanian placed a flower pot on a table and asked the class to look at it carefully. “He said, ‘Everyone will make the same kind of flower pot, but what makes your work different is your identity. Work hard to develop your own style – and once you’ve found it, protect it.'”
colors of rural telangana
Little Vaikuntham in a Workshop Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Born in Burugapalli in Karimnagar district in Telangana (then undivided Andhra Pradesh), Vaikuntham found his identity in his village and its people. He celebrated rural Telangana through color and form.
As the conversation turns to Hyderabad’s art scene, the octogenarian’s face lights up as he talks about young artists and their distinct styles. “In our time, selling art in Hyderabad was unimaginable. There were no curators there – we started from scratch,” he says. He credits his contemporary and close friend, the late Surya Prakash, for catalyzing the city’s art movement. “He organized exhibitions, camps and workshops which gave impetus to art here. It is sad that he is no longer with us.”
At Hyderabad Airport. Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
In the mid-1980s, Vaikuntam juggled his roles as an artist and an art teacher at Jawahar Bal Bhavan, and often worked 12-hour days. “I was completely immersed in art. The first thing I did after waking up was draw, pack my food, and catch the bus. I never learned to drive, but once my children were old enough to drive, they started taking me everywhere.”
Despite his heritage, he says he never inspired his children or grandchildren to follow in his footsteps. “They know art but they haven’t made a career out of it, and I never pressured them. Today’s kids have many avenues – they can shine in whatever they choose,” he says with quiet satisfaction.
A statue of his. Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
At present he is busy with his paper drawing. As he reflects on his journey, a sense of fulfillment colors his words. “All I wanted was for people in Hyderabad to know me, for my art to grace their homes. But now I am known in Mumbai, Delhi, even abroad. Success came naturally – my love for art gradually grew. When former Prime Minister PV Narasimha Rao liberalized the economy in 1991, interest in art also increased. People who once collected only MF Hussain’s artworks SAAB Or SH Raza started looking at regional artists; This gave us a big shock.
published – October 17, 2025 12:52 PM IST