Saturday, 10 July 2010

Anupam Poddar Interview [Devi Art Foundation]



RELATING TO EXHIBITION OF PAKISTANI ART – RESEMBLE REASSEMBLE

 
Saira Waseem
 GN. I was impressed with the disarming honesty and simple intellectualization of ideas presented through this exhibition. Would you say this is true of most artists’ work in Pakistan and what were your criteria for selection?

AP. The criteria for selection were primarily subjective. The collection includes works that move, inspire or challenge me. At the same time, I wouldn’t deny that works of most artists in Pakistan are very honest, both in terms of reflecting their personal history or their underlying meanings.

Imran Ahmad-Khan
GN. Though honest the work may sometimes appear simplistic. In the catalogue, writers have referred frequently to the political upheavals as beleaguered conditions under which the artists work. One therefore surmises that the work is a response linked directly to the prevailing threat which does not allow for much intellectualization.

In India a lot of work has a high intellectual quotient, such as Nalani Malani’s video - Remembering Toba Tek Singh, [shown at Devi Foundation - Still Moving Image] where understanding and appreciating the work requires considerable inquiry and study.

Noor  Ali Chagani
This was not evident in the works on display in this exhibition. For instance Noor Ali Chagani’s ‘Possession’, [2009]  
 
You do have work in this collection which is finessed - Saira’s Wasim’s ‘Nuclear Threat’ [2004], but the work is simplistic by comparison.

Some digital prints by Bharti Kher – ‘Chocolate muffins’, ‘Angel’, and others are designed to provoke. This larger than life concept is not uncommon in India and its absence in this exhibition of Pakistani art, seemingly grounded in the grim reality of their lives, is refreshing.

AP. For starters, I think it’s unfair to set a comparison of any sort between works of Nalini Malani and Noor Ali Chagani (a fresh graduate from the NCA, Lahore).  They are both in different stages of their career. Also, I believe that work comes from a personal expression, it could be political or apolitical, provoking or non-provoking; beauty lies in both.

Although scale is irrelevant to me, I would like to add that the larger than life concept has also been explored by Pakistani artists such as Ayaz Jokhio in his Titled series.
Ayaz Jokhio
GN. We are culturally linked in ways that would be impossible to dismiss, yet the art reflects an ethos that sets us apart. We have centuries of a shared history, so what is the definitive differential evinced through the art?  In your interactions with artists, curators and art educators, what is your perception in this regard?

Bani Abidi
AP. Despite having a shared history, I feel contemporary Pakistani art is more experimental in nature than Indian art. The artists follow their individual pursuits with convictions that are not driven by the market forces or contemporary trends; their personal expressions are highly skilled and insightful. For example, Ehsan ul Haq’s Life is Elsewhere or Unum Babar’s Then both of us were born anew.
Unum Babbar
 GN. The works in the exhibition - ‘Resemble Reassemble’ are indicative of global influences in terms of the media and visual language; however the dialogue appears rather insular. The artists do not engage with issues of global concern but are more involved in speaking of purdah, of relations between men and women in Pakistan, relations with India and other such issues that pertain to life within the subcontinent. 
A.P. I don’t see why in an age of globalisation an artist should be divorced from realities of their society? I think an artist should have the liberty of using new media to express their local realities or regional issues. 
 
Iqra Tanveer
Also, due to political and financial constraints, many Pakistani artists do not get an opportunity to travel which makes their work rooted in local realities which are far closer to them than that of an unseen world.

GN. Some of the artists have spoken of more universal human issues - videos by Ferwa Ibrahim and Huria Khan and while Unum Babbar attempts this in ‘Then both of us were born anew’, one draws a gender inference from the heavily clad woman, rather than a spiritual one, as referred to in the poem by William Cartwright whom she quotes in the title. The same happens with the screen prints of Nazia H Khan, where the distress in the folds of the organza fabric and the imprint of flowing hair evoke tension which the through context of the exhibition is inferred as emanating from terror[ism].


Ferwa Ibrahim







a) Do you think this inference is inevitable?

b)  Is it erroneous?

A.P I think most viewers come to see art from Pakistan with their preconceived notions, which Resemble Reassemble has tried to challenge by primarily shifting the focus to visual thinking and by not creating sections within the exhibition.

Additionally, what might appear to a viewer as addressing gender issues for example, Amber Hammad’s Maryam, holds a special meaning for me. It reminds me of the shift in her artistic practice and how her stature as a person has changed – from the girl who often portrayed fairly tales in her work to Maryam, a mother with responsibilities.

Amber Hammad
I think there is more to the work than ‘terror’. Bani Abidi’s The News, was made during her KHOJ residency. The video explores similarities and differences in language than merely depicting terror.
GN. The scale of works is mostly miniature or if not exactly within that oeuvre, the scale is contained more so than what one sees in India. The smaller scale creates finesse and a sense of delicacy as in Unum Babbar’s video installation on egg-shells or Mohhammad Ali Talpur’s ‘Leeka’ or his Bird drawings, which is in direct contrast to the large scale installations in India. Do you think this potential can and/or should be re-visited by Indian artists, given that we share a tradition in miniatures? 

Ali Talpur
AP. To me, the scale of a work is irrelevant; it is the quality that matters. Miniature or larger than life, it is the content that attracts a viewer. For example Unum Babar’s ‘Not quite sure till afterwards’, could be projected on a pedestal or a wall, the work remains interesting for its content and execution, not scale.
 
Mahreen Murtaza
GN. What do you think of the miniature tradition as re-visualized and presented by the Pakistani painters in this 21st century?

AP. I find contemporary miniature art from Pakistan very exciting. It challenges its own boundaries and often surprises the viewer with the outcome. 
 

GN. In the context of a global village, do you think traditions that specify an ethnic identity are relevant in the arts?

AP. Absolutely.  

GN. Do you think that we in India should also preserve some of our ancient traditional artistic practices by bringing them into the context of contemporary art?

AP. Yes. Our next show on Indian Folk and Tribal Art will explore this in detail. 

GN. India and Pakistan have had strained relations for the last 60 years. There have been attempts at a dialogue towards peace but the general opinion is that we are working to keep us apart rather than to bring us closer together. There is considerable distrust even as there is bonhomie; do you think that a cultural initiative can aid the dialogue for peace?

AP. Yes without a doubt! In my experience of visiting Pakistan, I have often felt a lot of warmth and friendship. Politics is played between politicians. On an individual level there is a lot of love that spills over.


Aisha Khalid
GN. As a viewer, I was rather touched by some of the work. We don’t really have a connection with Pakistan that pertains to everyday living. When we are affected by terrorist attacks of Pakistani origin etc, it has been convenient to believe the national propaganda, but now Pakistan has begun to have a more humane face. The conditions they live in, as exemplified through the works in this exhibition - the curtailing of freedom, implications of wearing a veil and the fact that death by terror is considered normal is horrendous and in a sense makes one less mistrusting and more compassionate.

Aisha Khalid
 AP. This is the beginning of a journey that we wish continues. I’m happy to know that the exhibition succeeded in marginally changing your vision of Pakistani art. However, this was not the real goal. The aim of the foundation is to set a platform for cutting edge artists; it is not so much region-based but encourages what in our opinion is good art.

GN. What do you think sets apart the art from Pakistan and that which is presently being made in India? What in particular draws your eye as a collector to either?

AP. What draws me towards Pakistani art is that it is honest, fresh, at the same time experimental and challenging.

GN. Do you think we can inform each others' practices through exhibitions, workshops and other means of artist exchange?

AP. Yes. Initiatives such as ‘Aar Paar’ in 1998 proved to be very fruitful in informing the countries of each other’s artistic practices and we hope there are more initiatives in the future.
Ali Talpur
GN. And does The Devi Art Foundation have any plans for this?

AP. The Devi Art Foundation has an education and outreach programme that is designed to work in conjunction with pedagogues and academia to forge a critical space. In the next two months we are planning to organize talks and seminars that will bring together artists and academics from both the countries.

GN. What made you think of adding Pakistani art to your collection? Bani Abidi’s video of the ‘Shan pipe band’, Ehsan Ul-haq’s installations ‘Zero point’ and ‘Life is elsewhere’ do bring into focus some of the similarities both culturally and of issues pertaining to urban development or lack of it. Was this a criterion?
Bani Abidi
AP. I saw images of works which very exciting. These prompted me to visit Pakistan and meet with the artists.

GN.  Do you plan to expand this, to include art from other regions of South Asia?

AP. Yes.

GN. The works in this collection are diverse in media and content, despite the fact that they pertain largely to issues within the Pakistani context. - Hamra Abbas in ‘Please do not Touch…’ uses the English language with a ‘jaali’ that is Islamic; while Bani Abidi’s digital prints – ‘Security barriers A-L’, use icons that are universal and others that use video, installation, surgical instruments etc. The diversity speaks of their creative prowess. Do you think that because people do not readily visit Pakistan curtailing the artistic exchange and dialogue, that this provokes their creativity?

AP. I feel struggle is an important part of our life and at some point, we all go through it. Indian art has gone through it and many Iranian artists are at the present facing it.

Even though Pakistan is not readily visited, I think in the recent years the art has attracted many curators, critics and is being addressed in many international exhibitions – ‘Hanging Fire at the Asia Society’, ‘When Three Dreams Meet’ at the Whitechapel Gallery – this will hopefully improve things.

GN. The works in the exhibition primarily represent the first decade of this century, from 2000 to 2009. Is there a reason that no work predates this? Most of the artists are born after 1970, what is reason for this predisposition towards the younger generation, where most are in their late 20’s or early 30’s and none is beyond 45 years old?
 
Nazia Khan

AP. That is what was prevalent when I started collecting art from Pakistan. I enjoyed the young, new energy of the students and also felt that somebody had to support them financially for them to continue their practice and reassure them of it. However we do have artists of all age groups. Some of the senior artists in the collection include Anwar Saeed, Ruby Chishti and Roohi Ahmed.

GN. Bani Abidi’s video ‘Shan pipe Band’ reminds of the parallels in our cultural make-up. The Star and Spangled Banner may have political implications regarding Pakistan’s particular relationship with America, but the bandwalla is as much a part of our ethos and art, brought into play by Krishen Khanna’s recent retrospective. These are things we know but take for granted, which art re-visits, reminding us of a shared heritage which makes partition a tragedy and more so our animosity towards each other.
Bani Abidi
a) Having visited Pakistan did you have had any such moments of surprised, tragic and hilarious cognition?

b) Would your collection have been influenced by these parallels?

AP. I guess I was surprised with the culture that spoke in a curious mix of Urdu, English and Punjabi. The love and the warmth that was showered on me left lasting impressions. For me the whole experience of being in Pakistan, interacting with new artists and works, was very exciting and intoxicating.


Friday, 5 February 2010

A Mythical Universe, the Art of Jayashree Burman [Book Review]

Title: A Mythical Universe
Publisher: Art Alive Gallery, New Delhi
Year of Publication: 2010
Essays by: Ina Puri, Ashok Vajpayee and others
Price: Not mentioned
ISBN: 978-9\81-906463-0-7



Is the contemporary Indian woman really freed from the rituals and traditional values that are deeply etched in our psyche? Does she even want to be, is the question Jayshree’s water colours present.

To visually locate Burman’s lush but carelessly decorated watercolours in a milieu that is preoccupied with material things, concept art, installations and digital media, is virtually impossible for it has no recognizable icons that can. The randomly painted watercolour base and restless scratching of the ‘Rotring’ pen on a vibrantly coloured surface are indicative of the influence of the frenzy that has gripped the contemporary temperament but her art-making seems to afford a comfortable escape into another universe; where the artist does not have to acknowledge the chaos of today, but inhabits a world of memories.

The book that accompanied her exhibition at Lalit Kala Academy, ‘A Mythical Universe’, published by Art Alive Gallery has essays by Partha Mitter, Ina Puri, Ashok Vajpayi and Pritish Nandy. It is a lush publication with numerous images of Burman’s artistic oeuvre from the 1980’s to present and lends an opportunity to see her evolution as an artist. Contrary to what we encounter in her present work which draws heavily from a nostalgic world of traditional lore and icons of Hindu Gods and Goddesses, her earlier work is rooted in a modern, almost abstract idiom, where she works rather loosely with form. The present ideas started making their mark around 1997-98 and from 2002 they have formed the definitive style that is easily associated with Jayashree Burman.

Jayashree Burman’s lushly decorative imagery of Gods and goddesses do not really explore the contemporary physical world enough and therefore her painted visages appear as distant realities. She does acknowledge this environment but rather perfunctorily. Burman thus appears to be out of sync with the aesthetics that govern our everyday living, positioning her work as nostalgic exotica; holding onto a past that has long gone, virtually ignoring the fact that the tapestry of our world and its culture has changed and that she could examine these nuances more than she does.

The various writers have tried to eulogize and justify the traditional rooting without really contextualizing it in the present day context, which is disappointing. Ina Puri has presented Jayashree Burman, the woman behind the artist as a rather endearing picture of a Bengali woman evoking perhaps the much loved Banalata Sen, who has been immortalized through verse and Burman too has painted her in lush tones of green. Puri’s engagement with Burman the ‘Bengali bhadralok’ and the woman as mother, wife and divorcee, bring out personal details that help us engage with the subtler dialogue underlying the visual panorama. This is perhaps the richest essay in this large volume. Professor Partha Mitter has traced the beginnings of her “naïve decorative style” with that of the assertion of pioneering nationalist painters to protest the “naturalist academic”style disseminated by colonial art schools, citing her as a worthy successor to Abanindranath Tagore. Pritish Nandy on the other hand rather simplistically states that what makes Jayashree Burman’s art so special is that “she occupies a space she has created and patented as her own” which he defines as “her narration of popular mythologies in a secular idiom that’s achingly beautiful”. He reminds us that her art is not just about our past, our traditions, our mythologies, but also about today. However he does not explain this facet which is the core of Burman’s dialogue with herself - an attempt to reconcile the diverse worlds that frame her life today.










Friday, 18 December 2009

Careless Interplay of Threads and Words - Rakhi Peswani [Vadehra]

Rakhi Peswani’s show at Vadehra Art Gallery does not seduce with lushness of fabric or embroidery. On the contrary, she presents an unusual perspective of sewing. It is its trivialness in everyday living that spurs the artist to pick up needle and thread. Her facility with the process is yet inept. She chooses to underline this, bringing our attention to awkward stitches offset by lofty ideas, generating questions and curiosity.


Rules of the Game
The concept of textiles as Art was prevalent before the advent of the painted canvas and is a vibrant dimension of contemporary art across the world. However, it has yet to find its space in India where embroidery is better associated with high fashion. Peswani’s endeavour is not to focus on the medium. She is not a textile artist but challenges herself experimenting with various techniques from photography to textiles and ceramic.
As you Sew

This is probably why the exhibition seems gauche and irksome. Rakhi Peswani hasn’t yet learned to communicate through the use of textiles. ‘On the Rules of the Game’ she attempts to address sexuality in saying “a stitch is also a prick”. She presents two hands in the process of sewing a maroon appliquéd velvet fabric, with these words sewn above using stitches reminiscent of marks made on fingertips as you sew. She attempts interplay on the sensation of being pricked while sewing and its reference to the masculine gender, without a convincing link. The fingers attempt a feeble penile reference but she needs to be more lucid about the connection she wishes to make, visually drawing this out in the work. Her idea appears diminished rather than augmented by the written word which seems to have been used to compensate lack of creativity. 
Detail of  'As You Sew'

Her preoccupation with cliché is evident throughout. In ‘As you Sew…’, multiple small shelves comprise a larger whole where she delineates ideas like ‘Slow’ or ‘Habit’ and ‘Desire’. Each of these are developed through the language of stitch, wherein ‘Slow’ employs chain-stitch, embroidering a snail-like ‘Slow’ and ‘Desire’ is evocatively sewn on disintegrating material as that which eats away the fabric of being. For ‘Habit’ she uses cross stitch, showing how repetition of something as inane as a stitch becomes a habit. Although these are small-scaled and don’t attempt grandiose statements, I found them most successful because here word and stitch complement each other.

In ‘Seductive Myths of Lightness (Sightscapes of an Insomniac) I’, I particularly like the way thread has been wrapped on wire, and the opened scissor pointed at an eye to present turmoil of a mind that cannot sleep. It is provocative, however if some of the threads encasing the wire armature had been left to hang loosely, they would have been more integral to the idea and not a mere prop. In addition, the canopy around this armature interferes with viewing. Eclipsed by over-lapping, semi-transparent panels of appliquéd patterns denoting the body, it is virtually closed on all sides so you are either looking inside the head or outside, unable to view the ‘sightscapes’ in totality. Squeezing yourself between the panels was not a convincing experience, leaving doubts about the need to define the anatomical body.

Misnomers - Heave
The 'word' reappears again in ‘Misnomers’, to explain rather than intertwine with the visual to bring out the sub-text of meaning. ‘Breathe’, is presented with ‘hope’ drawn with safety pins and ‘Breathe’ neatly machine-sewed below, while two almost child-like lungs are presented above. She uses net, filled with cotton to represent lungs which end up looking like two pods hanging off a wooden stem, about to pop open. In ‘Heave” she uses a stuffed ready-made bra to evoke a female torso, gauchely presented with velvet in dark brown and ‘Heave’ appliquéd below, using cut-out lace. Here Rakhi overlooks associations of the bra in history of feminism, using it merely to represent the female torso but not as nude. Thus the work appears both gauche and confusing.

Most of the pieces in this exhibition reflect an air of carelessness despite lofty titles and clichés. Some of the imagery is strong, especially when she uses scissors, but after considered work [‘Being and Becomings…’], dressing them with gauze bandage and velvet and creating an elaborate assemblage of tiny brass safety-pins, which the scissors are poised to cut, Rakhi leaves the idea of the pillow as a torso fluidly developed, almost incomplete. She draws your attention and then lets you down, as if tired of working.

Textile making is a painstaking process, demanding commitment and dedication. Peswani’s ‘Intertwinings’ exhibit a lack of information and intimacy in working with the material but her inability to speak consummately cannot be attributed to this alone. Art making is the human response to our lives and the environment we exist in and Peswani falls short of a convincing dialogue because her experiences appear not to have touched her enough to provide insights to share with us.