Accidental Perfection - Mrinalini Mukherjee [Conversation/ Review - Nature Morte]

 

Palm Scapes, an exhibition of Bronze sculptures by veteran artist Mrinalini Mukherjee at Nature Morte, New Delhi [October 29th – November 23rd 2013] compelled me initiate a conversation with the artist.  Appendages of a Palm tree crafted so precisely, where every line of its delicate ridges appeared as though liquid bronze had been poured over a live specimen, aroused my curiosity. How was this perfection achieved?

Surrendering the knowing of the intellect in deference to the inner voice, which paves the path for perfection, is ancient wisdom. Often referred to as happenstance, it is not coincidence, but humility allowing perfection to manifest. But, rarely do artists say it just happened, in quite the way Mukherjee concedes.

The exhibition comprised a handful of bronzes from the Palm series and two works - ‘Bouquet’ I and II, from an earlier body of work. Palm Scape-V [49 x 39 x 30 inches, 2013] was a majestically crafted limb of the Palm, reclining as if on its spine. Its knee-like flexibility allowed it to bend and rest its ‘foot’ on a pedestal, appearing almost human. Placed in the centre of the basement gallery, the expansive space around it, created an aura of authority. In part, it evoked the ‘Machli Palm’ morphing into something that had little or no resemblance to the Palm species at all, but seemed akin to “fossilized trophies dug from a prehistoric swamp or the robotic armour of an alien orchid creature.” 

 

The ‘head’ of ‘Palm Scape-V’ opened up gladiola-like in full bloom. It’s sensuous, but rigid petal formations stretching themselves, reaching for the skies. The lower section grew into an amply fleshed, leaf-like calyx through which shoots emerged and kissed the table in a quasi reverential way. The leaf-calyx became the focus of attention not just for its placement at the centre of the limb but, because the extremely fine texture, where each fine line was delicately etched to utter perfection, commanded the eye’s focus. I asked Mukherjee how she achieved such replication of this texture. She replied saying this was not intentional: it could have been cast in plaster from an original specimen of the Palm and then in bronze, adding that when she is working, the forms being carved in wax take on the texture of the surface she is working upon and could not recollect exactly what surface created this.

Mrinalini Mukherjee is well-known for her elaborate, knotted and

plaited fibre sculptures. She has also experimented with ceramics, moving onto working with bronze. She carries forward the tradition of working with the hand, which both textiles and ceramics necessitate, and moulds the wax sculpture, before casting it in bronze, entirely with her bare fingers. If any tools are involved, they are only used to remove plaster stuck in ridges and hollow spaces of the finished piece. Here, she uses dentistry tools to extricate the residue.  Working with the hand is important to this artist who needs direct contact with her material. Where, through the conversation between the epidermal layers of her fingers and the soft skin of wax she ‘feels’ the form and its texture into being. 

 

The transition from fibre to bronze was not seamless but one that generated a great deal of experimentation and capacity to explore different media. Knotting for hours at a stretch, of fingers intertwining with jute to create large, anthropomorphic vegetal forms was laborious and time consuming. A chance opportunity in 1996, found Mukherjee responding well to the immediacy of handling clay, creating large pieces. But she began working with wax to make smaller, less time-consuming work - necessitated by a personal situation, which eventually led to casting in bronze through the lost wax process.  

 

In ‘Palm Scapes’, which marked a decade of working with bronze,  the work of hands that have felt and touched fibre in a very intimate way was evident -  as if thread had been cast in bronze. I wanted to discuss her experience from Fibre to Bronze. She was reluctant but a brief conversation ensued which was inspiring. Not because she revealed some elaborate secrets, but, for the very simplicity with which she spoke. Of how she had let chance lead her from one thing to the next, undeterred by technical limitations. Allowing this to re-define the way the medium she was experimenting with was going to be used. Mukherjee disclosed that ceramic artist Ray Meeker began his larger-than-life pieces after she had taken the scale of clay onto another dimension. 

 

Palm Scape-I [20.5 x 62 x 48 inches, 2013] recalls a Palm in flower, however the ‘flowers’ appear hostile and the leafy calyx is menacingly serpent-like. On the opposite end of the flowering tip was a stem extended about three feet in length, with a droopy head-like form at the far end which had a distinct similarity with the male sexual appendage. Despite the traditionally female association of a plant in flower, the form itself carried rather masculine attributes and like most of the sculptures on view appeared androgynous. The voluptuous folds and orifices of Palm Scape-VII [33 x 36 x 13 inches, 2013] could be interpreted as a feminine form, but there was harshness reflected through the use of metal and the grotesque and formidable aspect of the sculptural form. The intensified detailing evocative of a piercing gaze created an otherworldly aura, further fleshing out the masculine. The effect was ambiguous because for Mukherjee, plants have their own sexuality.

Studying these bronzed plant limbs, I was intensely aware of a

persona that was near-human.  Rigid and unmoving – stilled in time, sometimes evoking the vagina, sometimes a penile form and sometimes nothing more than a bouquet of textures, bringing forth myriad ideas  underlying which was a sense of reverence. The sculptures created a sense of awe but, Mukherjee does not speak of either her practice or her observation of palm trees encountered on her drives across the country, with the same devotion they invoke in the viewer. On the contrary, she is very matter-of-fact with words. The interplay of the sensual or erotic and meditative that manifests in the sculptures through attention to detail and intensity of gaze – making a connection that evokes divinity or puja as it were, is not part of her conscious practice either.

Mukherjee records her observations and translates them into her sculptures by neither drawings nor photographs. But driving around Kerala, Goa and other places, she just looked. Different palm forms found their way into each sculpture and it’s hard to say where one began and the other ended or when it took on a character that went beyond that of the palm, or that of any plant-form itself. 

 

Mukherjee doesn’t define the forms she doesn’t deify them either, but the works exhibited evoked an unseen presence. Some of the creative process is controlled but mostly not. Because she likes to look back at her work with a sense of awe, which is probably why her bronze sculptures bring forth a similar response in the viewer too.

Small Wonder -Rahul Kumar [ Review]

Astronomically Small was an apt title for Rahul Kumar’s exhibition of miniature pot sculptures at Art Heritage Gallery, New Delhi, from the 2^nd of March to the 3^rd of April. These minuscule works made us wonder if a pot could be more than just a pot..

Near the entrance of the gallery, three very small cadmium-red glazed pots placed in an unglazed terracotta niche appeared like votive offerings. Many such miniature works filled the gallery – placed on walls or on raised, uneven ceramic pedestals. Collectively, they evoked the poetry of Omar Khayyam.

One of the works featured an indigo vase, just over an inch high, on the edge of a scroll-like strip of white textured porcelain marked with occasional black swirls. In a similar vein, a small white teapot, merely two inches high, stood on the edge of a flat patch of terracotta with a wave-like form at its far end.

To make his delicate pots, Kumar’s doesn’t throw clay on a wheel but moulds each sculpture by hand. The scale of the works commands close examination and inspires contemplation. 

In the show, Kumar also displayed sets of larger tiles mounted on grid frames. These works seemed to have no relationship with the ‘Astronomically Small’ theme. This slight confusion detracted from the power and beauty of the exquisitely small pots. 

Canvas of Thread - Monika Correa [Review]

I was first introduced to the tapestries by Monika Correa through the pages of ‘The India Magazine’ in the early 1980’s. Then, a student of woven textiles, I was awed by her audacity and ingenuity in removing the reed of the warped threads to weave those fluid yet structured, unforgettable images of the Banyan Tree. This technique, of removing the reed while weaving the fabric, has become Correa’s signature style. In the present body of work, ‘Meandering Warp’, exhibited at Gallery Chemould Prescott Road in Mumbai, the visual qualities of the woven pieces have moved away from representing any sense of the figurative towards a more abstract and philosophical exploration. The large woven pieces present a tactile sensuality that is evocative of a deep, intense questioning of something that seems to have no answer, because, a similar question persists throughout the works. Correa’s woven explorations meander but do not necessarily deviate from the essence of her intellectual preoccupation. The thread canvas is ascetic, yet sensual, evocative of the universal, yet intensely personal

‘Jamshedpur’ [40 x 53 inch], is woven with red-dyed cotton threads in the weft and an unbleached off-white cotton warp. This contrast both highlights the redness of the maroon and softens its bloody overtones. The warp begins, at the bottom, with a division into three, almost equal parts, where in the central portion the reed has been removed lending fluidity to the threads, while the outer ends of the warp threads, are fitted within the confines of a reed for a more structured weave. The basic construction is an open twill weave where the weft colour dominates. The artist has envisioned the work such that even though the magic of its construction lies in the way the warp threads are manipulated, the coloured weft provides the contrast in hue and texture to highlight the dancing movement of the warp threads. A quasi-Rothko-like sectional is drawn as the eye moves slowly from bottom to top, following the weft, but along the lines of the warp. Akin to a vertical river flowing upstream, the wavy threads culminate in a square of vertical waves - effortlessly contained. For, as the weaving progresses, they respond meekly to the discipline of the reed. As if a restless mind having expressed itself has been appeased. 

Each tapestry seems to be a continuum of such inner explorations. The trajectory is subtle. ‘Foggy  Day’ [40 x 70 inches] begins with the dark colours that underlie the dinginess of a day where the light is blocked by a cloudy sky. Gradually, as the weaver shuttles the weft in and out, light seems to penetrate the realms of a mind fogged out. A Black weft leads to a deep blue and then it gets lighter still until the unbleached cotton warp and weft seem to meet in a confluence of enlightened minds. There is an apparent resolution to this foggy day. However, Correa’s more successful works are those where the resolution is not quite so obvious and the warp distortions create deceptive illusions.

The optical illusion created in ‘The Sound of Silence’ [28 x 62 inches] is skilfully constructed. Woven with black cotton warp threads and a contrasting, unbleached cotton weft, the chatter of the unspoken voices seem to get louder and louder. This is denoted by a singular, precisely woven, steep chevron rising upwards, dissipating into a medley of confused lines. The chevron is still there, but the clarity of its form has dissipated. And yet only so much, for it cannot escape the essential pattern determined by way the warp has been threaded, a construction that is precisely articulated, with the help of the reed, at the commencement of the tapestry.  This piece ends with a black warp and weft woven together which obscures the detail of the fabric construction. And darkness descends, as it must when we give into the insecure chattering of the mind. The monochromatic colour-scheme and deceptively simple woven construct draw the viewer into their own mindscapes, looking for something familiar, finding it and then losing it, but without getting lost. There is clarity despite the conundrum.

The tapestries by Correa are highly evocative of the machinations of a contemporary urban mind. There is discipline, but restlessness too. There is structure, but yearning for freedom and fluidity - to just be. Sometimes there is resolve and often resolution too, but many times darkness descends before lightness dawns. The weaving is skilful. The ideas are subtle and not equivocal. Correa’s threads are open to interpretation. Each viewer must find themselves in these thread-ruminations as we do in the fluid, reflective surface of a deep pond. 

 

 I found the monochromatic pieces most appealing and the black and white ones most appropriate for the ascetic meanderings of a subtle and refined mind. The exhibition could have been more concisely edited. ‘Tree-One’, ‘Homage to Kepes’, ‘Purple Rose of Cairo’ and ‘Bethlehem’ brought much coarser elements into play. These detracted from the subtlety of the major body of work and I felt that had such works not been included, the song of Correa’s threads would have touched an unforgettable chord.

A Window of Perception - [Review, American Psyche, Religare arts i]

'Dyanne'. Beth Yarnelle Edwards

Photographs hold a special fascination for everybody, the world over. The facility to grasp a moment as it is; capturing the monumentality or poignancy of the moment with just a click of the camera is irresistible. Digital technologies have made this simpler than ever before, so what sets apart the artist-photographer from a doting parent or enthusiastic tourist?

Photography that engages beyond familial or familiar memories is about the quality of observation a photographer imbues their work with. It’s the measure of a photographer’s engagement with self and subject; exploring facets of looking which draws and sustains a viewer’s attention. This quality of intimacy and engagement noticeably pervaded almost all the images in the exhibition ‘American Psyche’ curated by Janet Delaney, at Religare Art.

'Paul' - Susan Felter

In addition, what made this exhibition a unique experience, was that the earlier construct of the West looking at the East with their limitations of knowing and desire to know, based solely on the narrow self interest of commerce and dominion, was turned on its head. The on-going shift in world economic power with its implications of change in how, once dominant cultures are now viewed by those they dominated, was evinced as we in New Delhi were invited to look at the ‘American’ psyche through the eyes of ‘American’ photographers.  

The selection by Delaney featured some known, predictable icons such as the ‘Cowboy’ from Susan Felter’s portfolio ‘Rodeo Work’, as well as lesser known facets of contemporary daily life, exquisitely captured by Beth Yarnelle Edwards in ‘Suburban Dreams’. This was added to by Brian Ulrich’s statement on the “American love affair with shopping on credit” and subsequent bankruptcy. Chris Churchill’s black and white images highlighted ‘Faith’ presenting a broad spectrum which included various organized religions and also spiritual practices. Leon Borensztein‘s series of commissioned portraits also in black and white, recorded ‘telling details’ and Jim Goldberg’s ‘Teenage’ narrative added a touch of authenticity to the presented socio-political commentary. Issues of governance and civic mindedness also formed part of this montage where Paul Shambroom brought us a close-up view of the American public servant. Mike Steinmetz stealthily captured candid moments of unknown people and Todd Hido kept driving and looking, photographing the outside of houses at night with people at home. Indicated not by silhouettes of them, but implied by the glare or soft haze of electric light shining through windows, that were curtained and sometimes not. He captured a sense of the quietude of night-life, imbuing it with a sense of knowing, despite the physical displacement of him being outside the frame.
 

In this vast panorama of life in America, it was the images by Beth Yarnelle Edwards, portraying the everydayness of suburban living with precision and sensitivity that left a lasting impression. These photographs needed no explanation. They had a timeless, universal quality. Akin to still-life painting of early Dutch masters, Edwards’s keen sense of observation posed not a critical view but provided a perceptive document. In ‘Dyanne’ [1998, 19/25, chromogenic print, 20x24 in], the quality of light and semi-completeness of attire, nuanced a level of tension. There was a sense of expectation, yet also of fatigue and on looking more intently, one noticed that the dinner was not yet over. The table was still set. It was not a sense of let down after the event, but a kind of resigned expectancy after long hours of preparation, that emerged. Such details reveal more than just a stereotypical view of the mundane. In another photograph, she captures ‘Susan’ at work, [2002, 5/25, chromogenic print, 20x24 in] her bejewelled hand polishing the glass top of a dining table. An Andy Warhol print hangs behind her and a large urn of artificial Hydrangeas and exotic Orchids rests on the centre of the table. A William Morris look-alike design on the upholstery of dining room chairs completes the picture of a home where everything is neat, clean, carefully chosen and meticulously arranged; a life-style of successful people residing in the suburbs. Edward’s success lies not only in capturing evocative everyday moments but also in the lack of self-consciousness with which each person appears in the frame.

 

Delaney presented a wide panorama, attempting to cover the breadth of a vast and diverse culture. This however detracted from the subtler perspective each photographer had presented. At times one felt that this ‘psyche’ was orchestrated to present more of a politically correct statement rather than a heartfelt one. This portrayal may not have been conclusive or entirely convincing, but in presenting a view through the lens of American photographers, of nuances most of us here would not be privy to, it opened up another window of perception.