Mario Miranda — Indian Artist, Cartoonist and Illustrator.
Mario de Miranda has not formally studied Art and began his career as a Cartoonist for the Times of India Group in 1953. He later moved into illustration and fine art. He has illustrated numerous books including Inside Goa by Manohar Malgonkar, A family in Goa and The Open Eyes by Dom Moraes. Amount his own books are Goa with Love, A little World of Humor, Sketch book, Germany in Wintertime, Impression of Paris and Mario de Miranda He has been invited to sketch and exhibit in many Countries including U.S.A., Japan, Germany, Spain and France. He is also the recipient of many National and International honours.
Indain artist Mario de Miranda died in his sleep on 11th December, 2011 in his ancestral house in Loutolim – Goa. He is survived by his wife Habiba and two sons Rishaad and Raul. He was ailing for the last 2 years but was active till his last days and was at a musical evening at a nearby restaurant 2 nights before
The Last Interview with Indian Artist Mario de Miranda
This interview was recorded a few weeks before Mario Miranda passed away. In the interview Mario speaks about his growing years, influences, travels and, of course, Goa.
This short film was shot by Arun Miranda for the Animation and Art School, Goa. Its use here is gratefully acknowledged.
The Mirandas of Loutolim have lived in the same small area on the north bank of the Zuari River for more than five hundred years. They were the Sardesais or revenue collectors of a small village called Raciem when Goa was ruled by the Bijapur Sultans. They were Hindus and Brahmins by caste. When, in the mid 16th century, the Salcette district was conquered by the Portuguese, the family converted to Roman Catholic Christianity and took on their new name, Miranda. The house is in Loutolim, in the district of Salcette. Loutolim is small, sleepy and redolent of the flavour of a much older Goa. The center and heart of Loutolim is the church, and within a dog's bark of it, is this house
Two years ago I found myself closeted with Mario in a foreign land. The country was rich, the wine heady and the natives friendly. Not surprisingly, we had a terrific time. During those 16 days I had a good, long look at Mario and I am ashamed to report that I discovered only one solitary eccentricity. I noticed that when we were in a pub or a theatre or a restaurant, he would suddenly disappear. I also noticed that just before he left he surreptitiously pocketed a beer coaster or a menu card. Initially I suspected Mario to be a latent kleptomaniac or one of those souvenir hunters, but that appeared too simplistic an explanation. My journalistic antenna suggested something decidedly more serious