GN: It
has been said that ‘Life’ is not something we discover but create in each
moment. Is life the ultimate canvas for you?
TS: In some sense, life is the ultimate canvas, but for me nothing is
the ultimate medium.
I engage with performance and its
potentiality, exploring life-like art. Inspired by Allan Kaprow and John Cage -
their thinking about life-like art and art-like art, I began exploring live
performance in life-like art – what this means to the viewer and relevance of
the viewer to the art, how not to de-contextualize it from life, but to engage
in the process of life.
GN: Why
do you work through live performance and not painting or installation?
TS: I am interested in it and living in India , the context in which one can
make and produce art is limited, largely determined by commerce.
I come from a socially engaged and activist background engaging with
issues of marginalization of class, religion, sexuality and gender and I wanted
break down the false wall, the invisible curtain that exists between the artist
and viewer - to bring myself to the viewer.
GN: Trust
is intangible, yet fundamental for harmonious living. What did you hope to
achieve by bringing the notion of trust as an ‘aesthetic’ into the gallery
space?
TS: Trust is very loaded word. How can I explore some aspect of this
through strangers? Contact was the key feature, leading to intimacy and touch,
questioning the artists’ relationship with the audience.
I also wanted to work with the duality of trust and mistrust. It is
relevant at this point of transition as a human society - of politics, war,
colonization and technology.
GN: What
does trust signify for you?
TS: There is a kind of fundamental handing over to someone else.
GN: What
are the parameters by which you ascertain trust?
TS: I was sound recording the conversations which implied surveillance.
Participants were not always aware of this.
I was surprised that people assumed I had completely surrendered.
Sometimes personal things were exchanged - life story experiences, where
trust defined how one formed a relationship.
GN: If
exploited, the exercise could have been traumatic. Was there any particular
participant that tested the threshold of trust?
Tejal with Asim |
TS: With Asim on the motor-bike and then also with Mary- with the kind of sharing - such openness, made me feel that there actually was great potentiality for trust between people. I also had sense of care which is related to trust.
GN: Did
anyone display a tendency to exploit the trust?
GN: What was
the threshold of tolerance, beyond which you would call for help?
TS: So far I have not come across a situation where I needed to call for
help. Dialogue helped as I was always in communication with the participant and
could always say ‘yes’ to this and ‘no’ to that. The Gallery had the phone
number of each participant and could hear us talk. The only control that I had was
to choose to go along or not.
GN: You
have done this exercise earlier in Beijing ;
what was the essential difference between that performance/interaction and
this?
TS: In [
He had decided that no: 1 would be a very dangerous thing, No: 2 – would
feel very dangerous, but still safe [amusement park] and No: 3 –would be
something that was not dangerous.
GN: Did
this experience change your outlook in any way?
TS: I still think, ‘what if something happened’? Today if someone asks me to do something without telling me what’s happening, even in everyday things like ‘are you free on this and this day’ my response is: ‘why are you asking, what do you want’?
GN: Your
trust has become conditional?
TS: My worry is that someone is putting me in a precarious position
where moving by a millimetre could be a question
of life and death.
GN: Give
some examples of what you and the participants in Delhi did?
TS: At the opening night someone kept asking me to guess what she looked
like. She was interested in how people would perceive someone, without knowing
what they looked like.
Tejal with Suruchi and Ankit |
A journalist took me onto the gallery terrace and asked round about
questions. I am not sure whether they were meant to be metaphorical or poetic.
She said: “there is an arch on a hill, like an old stone arch, its part of a
ruin; [pointing me in that direction] what does it signify for me?’ I have been
on that terrace many times but did not know if the arch was really there. I had
no sense of what was reality and what was not. I just went with the flow.
I was also taken to Tughlaq’s tomb, Qutab minar, Greater Kailash II
market [with Mary, where we went to a coffee shop and had coffee]
Tejal with Mary |
TS: I kept asking the participants ‘are people looking, how they are
looking’? A foreign tourist interacted with us outside Tughlaq’s tomb. And when
I was with Amber, some guy asked us in Hindi “What are you doing, what is the meaning of this?”
GN: Were
your other senses heightened because you were blindfolded?
TS: Being cut off from the visual world created a dark space – a visual
emptiness. It was amazing to lose the visual world and see how calm I felt - no
anxiety about being blind-folded; it felt very natural. The sense of
temperature was heightened. I could tell when we were going from shadow to
sunlight, feel a change in temperature on my skin.
GN: In
one recorded conversation you felt that the bike was titling to the left and said
“I was scared, but obviously trusted him
totally.” Could you elaborate?
TS: I have since re-questioned the idea. The bike felt it had titled,
was almost touching the road. I felt desperate and needed to focus on one fixed
point. I knew Asim a bit, but didn’t know if he was a safe rider. There was a
lot of traffic, the sound was overwhelming. I lost my equilibrium. It was also
getting dark and cold. It was not whether I trusted him or not, but a
precarious situation.
GN: What
specific nuances of trust did you discover through the interactions in Delhi ?
Tejal with Mithu Sen |
TS: I needed to keep talking. People are open and willing to engage and
share, renewing my ability to trust. This is just the beginning.
Mithu was surprised her conversation was being recorded. She saw it as
mistrust, making me question myself. The dialogue generated interest in the
ethics of what is exchanged.
GN: The
notion of trust is abstract, with no visual qualities. How does this come
within the purview of the visual arts?
TS: There is something to hear and see and experience. I do not
necessarily qualify this performance as visual art. Live art is more than even
performance.
GN: We
live in troubled times, trust is at a premium. Did the performance give insights
that could help address this issue?
TS: Trust was built into the title of work. I am like an optimistic
pessimist. I feel we can try and address these things. I have faith. People were
willing to participate. It’s only when we engage that we can think about our
limits.
GN: As a visual
artist what do you experience when you become a performer?
TS: I felt vulnerable. There was a sense of being exposed and of
adventure too.
GN: What
did the participants, your co-performers, experience?
TS: People lacked the experience of leading a non-sighted person. Some asked
me to walk in front, to lead them and many walked really fast.
Some were vulnerable in the sharing they did.
GN: At
the outset, who did you really trust - participants, the gallery, or some other
element?
I started with a sense of complete trust in the participants.
Ultimately, I do feel that it comes back to one’s self, as collaborative,
sharing self.