Partly because of its puckish political theme but more because of its sharp, hectic scribbling of caricatures that you take note of Bibhuti Chakraborty’s The Chairman. That is, the man who must, at all costs, capture and cling on to the chair of power. In fact, this series of drawings in black ink and purple colour pencil could well be called kissa kursi ka. Chakraborty is one of the members of the group, The Frame — more than 25 years old now — which recently held the inaugural show of its own gallery in Alipore .

Another long-time member, Sandhykar Kayal, came up with a series that is also built around rough, impromptu sketches and paired with handwritten lines. If they imitate coarse, quaint, poorly-printed period advertisements and are often punched with a bawdy, subaltern humour, it’s probably because the artist cocks a bristly snook at politesse. Soumitra Kar’s poetic drawings are more mainstream in their inspiration: folk art, whether charmingly simplified rustic dolls or decorative motifs. Pran Gopal Ghosh examines still lifes as a terrain that is quietly volatile with battered objects and their shadows, layers of shredded acrylic paint and phantom plants, juxtaposed into uneasy relationships. Debasish Samanta can vary his pastel lines and shades. Biswajit Saha’s charcoals are better than the pastels but could do with some bite. Robin Roy’s appeal lies in his tentative imagery, and Arunangshu Roy’s present works lack the comic absurdity of his earlier, sumptuously crowded scenes. The sculptor, Sumitabha Pal, knows his stone and handles it with a sensitive feel for the material.