Rajiv Surendra’s Upper West Side bedroom resembles a scene from a bygone era: Tucked in a corner, nibs, ink bottles, cotton paper, and wax-seal stamps sit on a circa-1820 cherry and bird’s-eye maple desk. “My aesthetic is not what’s hip, cool, and modern,” says the 26-year-old calligrapher, a Toronto native. “A strong knowledge of the past and an appreciation for history greatly influence my work.”
When he was a young boy, Surendra learned about the beauty of calligraphy after an acquaintance gave him letters dating from the 19th century. “I brought them with me to elementary school and started copying how the letters were formed,” he says. “At the time, we were learning how to write cursive in class.” Over the years, the letter-perfect craftsman has come to embrace imperfection, welcoming ink blobs and unevenly sized characters. “I’ve preserved the naive side to being self-taught,” adds Surendra, who also practices painting, pottery, and acting (hello, Mean Girls!), among other trades. “I’ve taken classes, but not too many. I consciously try not to make the cursive look too perfect.”
“I’m aware that my trade and what I do is sort of obscure,” Surendra muses. “Early on, I realized there was a power in this lost art. Not only am I communicating with the words I’m forming, but with the beauty of the lettering.”