Thoughts on RACE: Are We So Different?: Exhibition at Carnegie Museum, Pittsburgh

What is race?

What is race? How do you perceive and integrate race into your daily life and interactions? 

An exhibition which has been travelling around the United States since 2007 and has recently arrived at Carnegie Museum of Natural History, Pittsburgh, RACE: Are We So Different? poses all these questions and many more, compelling us to realise that race is ultimately just a social construct - and much more than just the binary terms of black/white. RACE happens to be a project of the American Anthropological Association in collaboration with the Science Museum of Minnesota. It is the first exhibition of this scale to offer an unprecedented look at race and racism in the United State

During my visit to the exhibition at the kind invitation of Cecile Shellman, museum communications and community specialist, I found myself giving much deeper thought than I have ever done before to the issues of race. "This exhibition is an invitation for thought leaders, community members, educators, students, and casual museum visitors to learn something new about how race has been classified; confront beliefs about race and culture; and to converse internally and with others,” says Shellman. “The idea is to spark dialogue that might not otherwise occur. In this way, the museum provides a safe and open space for learning about race and racism. We will consider this exhibition a success if the conversations continue well beyond our walls.”  

The exhibition is an intersection of science, sociology, history, anthropology, economics, and art; for example, we learn about the the relationship between genetic distribution and migratory patterns of earliest humans from Africa to various parts of the world, illustrating that genetically all human beings are more alike than individuals of any other living species. Similarly, we also become privy to  how people in power have classified others based on observable physical differences, and the resulting conclusions have led to systemic mistreatment of groups believed to be inferior or less capable. This study of power politics explores how groups of people were catalogued, how economics, popular culture, and politics have influenced treatment of various groups, and also, significantly, how attitudes about race have changed over time (as this American Census photograph below demonstrates). 

American Census: Changing Attitudes towards Race Over Time

Museums all over the world are constantly finding alternative ways to engage with their audience, moving away from traditional museum experiences. This exhibition is no exception: facts, statistics, and graphics merge with every-day experiences to produce a textured representation of the subject. There is ample use of multimedia presentations in form of  photographs, audio-visual presentations, and interactive stations along with standard display formats. Whether it's a station which asks you to guess a person's race through their voice or identify it by the virtue of their physical appearances, it makes you mindful of how race is woven into our every-day interactions and how we are both the objects and subjects of interactions and engagements without being particularly conscious of it.

Given that much of our engagement with the notion of race arises from visual interactions, it's perhaps appropriate that there were two photography projects interrogating the idea of race in the exhibition. One was a local project in which Pittsburgh Courier (the city's leading newspaper for its African-American community) took a series of photographs and interviews during the 1950s, asking the community at the time if there were any differences amongst them; the vast majority deny it while interestingly the same question (although reworded) is posed to the community in 2014 and several them admit to it. The project is significant for it locally contextualises the spirit of the exhibition as well as providing a larger historical perspective on the matter of inter-racial perceptions and interactions.

The Hapa Project

"What are you?" asks artist Kip in his photographic installation, The Hapa Project, which is a series of photographs promoting awareness and recognition of the millions of multiracial/multiethnic individuals of Asian/Pacific Islander descent in the U.S. We see individuals' photographs describing their racial make-up as well as self-written notes on how they perceive themselves. As they encounter a multiplicity of answers, visitors reflect on the sharp contrast between common conceptions of race and the fluidity of personal identity. The project ultimately underscores and reiterates the central point of the exhibition: at the heart of it all, whilst redressing long-entrenched misconceptions and myths, we must grasp and celebrate the truth that we are essentially just the same and that differences are merely skin-deep...

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RACE: Are We So Different? exhibition is on at the Carnegie Museum of Natural History till 27th October

Pictures courtesy: Carnegie Museum of Natural History

Of Ghost Clothes and Photographs

Portrait of a Dress (2013)

"Do clothes have ghosts, or do ghosts have clothes? There's no evidence one way or the other, as you might expect: but there are stories, some of which survive long after their telling."

-Ghost Dresses, My Mother's Wedding Dress: The Life and Afterlife of Clothes, Justine Picardie (2006).

I have talked about what clothes represent and signify to me here and as time goes by, my interest in notion of clothes being personal narratives and how they function as markers of different cultures, eras, and societies has further deepened. Of late, I have been on the hunt for compelling fashion writing and so I was pleased to discover Justine Picardie's memoir, My Mother's Wedding Dress: The Life and Afterlife of Clothes. A collection of poetic, beautifully written essays about how fashion (in form of specific items of clothing, literature, and fashion designers) has shaped the author's life, there was one particular essay which particularly intrigued me, Ghost Dresses and whose opening lines I have quoted above. 

It struck me that one of the reasons why I so enjoy looking at vintage photographs of people is to study the clothing/fashions that they are wearing. A few years ago, Scott Schulman had a feature on his blog, The Sartorialist in which he posted and mused about photographs he had found in a box at Chelsea Flea Market; he subsequently invited readers to submit vintage images of their family and friends - and these contributions were portraits in every sense of the word, the clothes bestowing clues about the subjects' quirks, preferences - and indeed, visually encapsulating very much of who they were exactly at that moment. Another incredible resource which I love returning to is Anusha Yadav's Indian Memory Project, which is dedicated to documenting Indian subcontinent's visual and oral history via family archives; as you browse through the images and read the accompanying stories, you will often observe contributors making references to the clothing the subject wears as much as a means of identifying the era in which they were photographed as well as how it enriches the understanding of the subjects and their stories. 

Group portrait of Rajasthani women and children, c.1920 (courtesy Tasveer Journal's exhibition, Subjects and Spaces II)

Lady at Toilette, c.1910 (courtesy: Tasveer Journal's exhibition, Subjects and Spaces I)

The Indian online photography magazine, Tasveer recently published its series, Subjects and Spaces, which dealt with the representation of women in Indian photography between 1850-1950. These two pictures are amongst the many which reflect the conjunction of photography in colonial and newly independent India and the role and presentation of Indian women in that time period. Whether its individual or group portraits, the exhibition gives fascinating insight as to what it meant to be photographed for the women and alternately, how it was to photograph them; whether it is noting the minutiae of the background details or how they posed and with whom or the garments, the underlying subtexts of the photographs are laden with stories.

Dancing, c.1872

I would like to share a story, which is an intersection of vintage photography, fashion, and ghost clothes. Three years ago, I bought a vintage photograph of two (presumably) aristocratic Rajasthani women from a Jodhpur antique store. I browsed through stacks of photographs before finally deciding upon a hand-tinted one of two smiling women posing next to a decorative pillar; they were dressed in lengha-choli, their heads covered. Clearly not just content with introducing color into the women's monochrome lives, the artist also limned their jewelry with glitter, blurring the line between painting and image. I remember thinking that the combination of the image being hand-tinted and vintage meant that the women looked as if they had been photographed underwater. 

I had the photograph framed and packed it in a nest of scraps of old cloth and newspaper and carted it off to Oman; after spending quite some time deciding where to place the photograph in my room, alternating between my desk or my dressing table, I eventually propped it above the rectangular mirror. Whenever I was writing at my desk, I would absently glance at the photograph and eventually, I thought of building a long novella or short novel around these anonymous women: who were they: mother and daughter, posing for a special occasion? Where were they posing and had they worn their special-occasion outfits? How did they feel about posing for a photograph? Had they been in purdah? If so, were they happy to be seen and not invisible, for once? I visualised the photograph being part of the book-jacket, reminiscing in the afterword about it being the visual and direct inspiration for the book.

As weeks passed, I could not pinpoint as to why I started to feel uneasy whenever I looked at the photograph; in turn, I felt that the smiles on the women's faces were less pronounced, conveying a discernible lack of cheer. Even though I valiantly attempted to construct a story around them, it was as if the women in the photograph resisted being written into the narrative.

I eventually decided that I could no longer have the photograph in my room; it was as if neither the women nor I were at peace and we should part ways. I could not bring myself to summarily dispose it in the trash so I decided to consign them to the sea instead. When I went to the beach, I gently placed them in the lap of the sea and prayed for their well-being. Why I did so, I do not know: both the prayers or the act of donating them to the ocean. All I knew that was I stood there and watched them float away in the sea until they gradually disappeared out of my sight.

Do clothes have ghosts, or ghosts have clothes? Some questions will be unanswered...

Lamia Gargash: Stories of Interior Spaces

The Staircase, Lamia Gargash (2005-6)

I first discovered Lamia Gargash's photography in a British Council exhibition, My Father's House a few years ago; a travelling exhibition, its first port of call was at Bait al Baranda museum, Muscat and while I admired the other featured photographers' works, I instantly gravitated towards Lamia's images, particularly those of interior spaces that she had photographed.

As a child, I had always loved reading about interiors and how people chose to decorate their homes; what and how they put together their homes revealed so much about themselves. However, as I grew older, while my fascination for gorgeously and unusually assembled interior interiors remained undiminished, I found myself looking beyond the picture-perfect images in glossy interior magazines and websites. I realised I wanted to see more of interiors which were unvarnished, a little rough around the edges: faces wiped clean of make-up, so to speak. These were interiors with personalities and quirks of their own, in a constant state of evolution. 

Window Light, Lamia Gargash (2005-6)

While Lamia has since then worked with other subjects, I still retain my affinity for her 'Presence' series. Starkly devoid of people, these are piercing portraits of spaces - and yet, they are also portraits of those invisible inhabitants occupying those spaces as well, documenting their presence through the way they choose to present their most immediate spaces. I find her images of abandoned buildings and structures particularly haunting and powerful: even in or perhaps, because of their derelict state, they are palimpsests, each layer reverberating with voices and echoes and stories...only if you are willing to listen - and that is what precisely Lamia has accomplished through her images and coaxed her viewers to do so as well.

I was therefore thrilled to get the opportunity to speak to Lamia about her work via Khaleejesque and here is my interview with her reproduced below:
 

1) What made you choose photography as your medium of artistic expression?

Honestly speaking, as a child, I never ever thought of becoming an artist or photographer so it was a happy accident as to how I became one. When I had applied for my MA at Central Saint Martins, London, I actually applied for graphic design; however, I was then told that my work was more photographic and subsequently, placed in photography. I tried my best to get out of it as I wanted to pursue digital media; fate though had decided that photography was my destiny.

2) You mention in your biography that you were concerned with the relics of a self-renewing architecture and thereby documenting the private and public realms of Emirati architecture. Could you further elaborate on this statement in context to any of your particular projects?

I love what the camera captures, paying attention to details and using it to record and preserve what intrigues me. Space is a hub for many changes that occur around us; it dictates not only styles and eras but also a way of living. How a room is experienced leaves many stories within its walls. One always looks at the outside word as a sign of progression and expansion but the true essence of change occurs within our own quarters. How one identifies himself within his own room and how he chooses to present his individuality and persona through it is what’s exciting.

Through 'Presence,' I sought to document a culture that exists in interiors and becoming extinct due to modernization and globalization. When I first started this project, I was studying in UK; coming back home, I was more aware of the changes happening and felt the desire to document my old home – and the work developed from there. I documented homes of people, who were shifting from them to newer ones as well as recording abandoned homes.

People always ask me why there are no people present in my photographs. To me the spaces and interiors not only narrate stories of the lives that existed in them but also give the viewer an insight into our culture: how swiftly things change in our country, the rate at which things are being destroyed and built is probably more obvious in the space we inhabit on a daily basis than merely the exterior urban landscape.

The Orange Room, Lamia Gargash (2005-6)

Meelas-Yadee, Lamia Gargash (2005-6)

3) Many of these spaces are clearly private residences. How was it photographing these private and intimate spaces?

I found that documenting private spaces was much harder than taking someone’s portrait. Also, as we live in a quiet, conservative society, which admires and respects privacy so taking one’s photographs is quite a challenge enough – but taking pictures of their private spaces was even more challenging. Many perceived it as an intrusion and invasion of privacy to expose their most intimate spaces, whether it be kitchen, bedroom or even bathroom. They would question: why would anyone be interested in living quarters? Go photograph the garden or the sunset instead! Initially it was very hard but I gradually found a language by which I was able to communicate my message.

4) The Brownbook collaboration focused on the Emiratis' fixation with the label, Louis Vuitton. How did that materialize? What kind of a commentary were you making through this project?

The idea behind this project was to showcase the idea of the brand LV being submerged in our everyday lives and presented in a series of photographs that had a vintage feel. I am an avid film user and almost all my work is shot on film; despite the difficulties associated with its post-production, I love the anticipation of waiting to get my images back and not knowing what they truly look like. The use of film helped capture the mood that Brownbook and Louis Vuitton were looking for.

I was given a brief and asked to recreate it in candid old school shots. The idea was to keep the images as honest as possible. “Presence” actually was its visual guideline; the mood and style of the photographs inspired the creation of the Louis Vuitton series.

6) I found the 'Through the Looking Glass' project very relevant and topical, considering the almost obsessive preoccupation many people have their appearance. You include subjects belonging to both sexes and a spectrum of nationalities and ages. How did the participants feel about becoming involved? What did you take away from this project?

Through the Looking Glass investigates how we constantly view ourselves in comparison to an ever-elusive standard, prompted by the constant bombardment of media imagery dictating ‘how we should look’. Minor defects become drastic, resulting in even more drastic measures undertaken to reach that ideal standard of beauty. Our self- perception, and subsequently our identity, becomes indistinct, as if viewing ourselves through a distorted looking glass.

The photographic series comprises of diptychs, with one panel depicting a portrait of the subject as seen by the world, and an opposing panel depicting the subject as seen through their mind’s eye.

In many ways all the portraits I have created for this series is a representing of my own insecurities. We live in a world that is bombarded with information and supposed accepted norms be it behavior or physical appearances. I have to admit I am one of those people whose lack of confidence affects me on a daily basis and I was keen on expressing that simple emotion and capture it photographically.

Finding my models was a challenge too as not everyone wants to have themselves presented in such a manner; it was crucial to have committed participants as it was a very delicate, time/money-consuming project.

I found that females were more receptive and excited about the project than men; they in turn were more reserved. The people I worked with were co-operative and understanding; I couldn't have asked for a better crew or cast. I also would like to thank Emirates Foundation who helped fund the project.

7) Your projects have included a gamut of subjects and themes: architecture, fashion, and dynamics of perception. Your project, Yadee however revolves around your grandfather and is therefore much more intimate and personal. What made you take up this project? What was the journey like?

My grandfather was such a strong character in my family; he had a healthy, active, athletic persona, who loved life, travelling and being young. However, he had a severe fall few years back that shifted his whole world and in many ways affected him deeply. For me, coming to terms with the situation was hard and took a while. The series of images of my grandfather (who is still alive) merely captures the sad aftermath of the whole situation. It showcases vulnerability, sorrow and isolation. It is almost like being introduced to a whole new family member. I am a keen observer: I pay attention to so many details that it overwhelms me and the fact that I find it hard to accept change leaves me lingering in the details, trying to grasp whatever I can through my photographs. Every project I have documented or created was an outcome of personal melancholy or pure inner reflections.

8) Would you like to talk about any future projects?

I have been working on a variety of business creative ventures with my sisters and family; however, regarding my next photo project, it will be a marriage between my love of interiors and implementing more of the“self” in the body of work. I still believe that there is still a lot to investigate in the idea of space and that there is still plenty that it has to offer as creative material. After all stories take place in every room in every house, building and structure and allowing the spectator to form his own narrative. How space is constructed and how we choose to embed ourselves within it is inspiring for me.

**You can read the interview in Khaleejesque here**

Ground Beneath My Feet 1

How often do we ever observe the ground that we walk upon? What began as a whimsical, accidentally taken image of me walking sparked off a curious meditation, the subject being: the ground that we walk and stand upon. 

The ground beneath our feet literally grounds us, rooting and connecting us to our surroundings. And yet, while walking through places, we see, register, and pause upon all that surrounds us: the houses, the color of the sky, the people whom we sidestep as they hurtle past us, and the cars clustered in a gossipy huddle on the sides of the roads. But how often do we ever think to look down and see what it is that we are walking upon? We assume for granted the solidity and mundanity of that we step foot on: but it is always so?

A few years ago, while walking road-side in Jodhpur, I remember encountering a host of variegated objects: torn, iridiscent sari scraps, broken glass bangles, notebooks half filled, and a almost-new looking shoe (where was its  sole companion?) The road-side was a stream of flowing traffic in itself, a traffic of stories. And it made me ponder that the floors, surfaces, textures, and the objects on the ground are telling so much...if we are willing to look and listen. 

So hereby begins a new feature of mine: Ground Beneath My Feet, where I will be presenting the different examples of grounds that I have walked upon (and to add a bit of visual interest, my shoes!). Kickstarting this idea is this image below:

Radcliffe Square, Oxford (2009)

I have always found cobbled surfaces fascinating: they immediately hearken back to a medieval era, the cobbled landscape conjuring up images of stylised boots navigating a studded floor, horses' hooves rattling away on the stones. How mundane it is to encounter the flatness of tarmac afterwards!

If you would like to contribute to this feature, go ahead and do so...email me at iamjustavisualperson@gmail.com with your images:)

Back after a hiatus...

Readers, I am still very much here...last year, this time round, I had idly mused as to what 2012 would yield for me; as it happened, it proved to be eventful in many ways, including getting married and moving from Oman to United States.

Well, here we are in 2013 and even though it's a tad late, here's wishing you a very happy new year!

This is the longest I have gone without blogging since I began almost two years ago and I have missed it, indeed...however, I am now back  and have plenty to blog about - what with a new country, new year, new seasons, sights and sounds...there is much waiting to present over here!

To start off, I am looking forward to the opportunity to travel and discover more of United States; my most recent and first exploration happened in northern California, where we drove down the Pacific Coastal Highway while visiting San Francisco and LA along the way.

While the stunning coastline arguably provided post-card photography options aplenty, I also thought to include more random images that I happened to take; quite often, these are the images that make you more vividly and specifically remember a place and become the stuff of your memories. 

Jagged Rocks:
The tumultuous sea; the solid, stolid rocks

Fifty Shades of Blue:
Jade, azure, cobalt, cerulean...you can stand for hours and contemplate the universe of blue

Ghost Tree at 17 Mile Drive:
I loved how the natural elements had sculpted the tree trunk into this sinuous minimalism - and yet, its dynamic; what would it look like the next time I visited it?

The Lone Cypress

Starting Line:
Sometimes, it's all about the timing

Maimouna Guerresi: Architechure of Faces

Vogue India fashion editorial

Before I discovered the world of fashion blogs, my relationship with fashion magazines was admittedly quite different: I initially bought fashion magazines by the dozen although I now ruefully admit that there were very few trends that I channeled or could channel and rarely purchased products suggested by them. Similarly, while I very much enjoyed looking at the fashion editorials, I could never quite appreciate how it would translate into every-day wearability for well...ordinary mortals such as me;) I increasingly perceived fashion as an elitist space when located between pages of these magazines, admission only granted if you had primed yourself about the brands or designers or personalities...rather than savoring the simple, unadulterated joy of putting an outfit together. For me, the moot point was about having fun with your clothes -  fashion is not synonymous with possessing 'It' bag or slavish allegiance to catwalks or being too self-conscious about it. It's about enjoying the art of costuming yourself, performing your personality through the props of your clothing, accessories, and make-up. Once I discovered fashion blogs, which were more individual, quirky, and inspirational, the magazine stack on my bedside table became considerably smaller or instead dismembered and used for scrapbooking or making collages (never underestimate the power of collaging when it comes to destressing!)

Having ranted and now contradicting myself said all that, though, Verve is one magazine that I have been following for many years now; one of the things that I most appreciate about it is that it's an entirely home-grown Indian magazine brand, rather than international magazine franchises tailoring themselves to Indian markets, such as Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, and Vogue, to name a few. This is not to say that the latter are doing a bad job (I particularly liked Marie Claire in its earlier years) but I have always been a champion of local endeavors and an entirely indigenous so go Verve! Verve has always been a monthly reading staple and apart from enjoying its wonderful writing, it's always been a pleasure to extend and cultivate my personal style sense by discovering new artists, artistes, authors, designers, and creative personalities through its issues.

I spotted the work of Italian artist,  Patrizia Maïmouna Guerresi, who works with photography, video, and sculpture, in her exhibition, 'Silent Dialogues' (brought by Tasveer Gallery and Tod's) in Verve's latest issue here:

Amina

In the interview, Maimouna describes the influence of Islam and its architecture in her photography and specifically, in 'Silent Dialogues', she says:

"...in my recent works, I am trying to concentrate on the highest and most exposed part of the body: the head. I cover and crown the head with a series of objects in the shape of hats/minarets which are made by hand in a ritualistic manner – with simple materials and pieces of fabric collected and then composed according to the Sufi Muslim tradition of manually producing their own clothes. The minaret hats are tall and narrow architectural forms that I then photograph. The models in my photographs sometimes hide their faces with a hand gesture, or are blindfolded, or simply have their eyes closed. They seem to detach themselves from the world in order to tune into the divine cosmic spirit."

( Verve, October 2012)

Blue Sangat (Triptych)

This is the sort of photography that makes you immediately stop in your tracks and makes you look look, your contemplations eventually precipitating a more meditative state. I found this confluence of photography, spirituality, and architecture really fascinating - I didn't find the posturing or posing at all stylised or deliberate in the photographs, the images appearing like vignettes from a dream instead. Interestingly enough, the image below is entitled 'Kalindi's Dream':

Kalindi's Dream

However, the more I engaged with these images, a series of curious realisations struck me. Would I choose to hang these images upon the walls of my home? Probably not. Would I choose to visit this exhibition again and again? Yes, I would. Would I change my mind about the former question in a couple of years? Quite possibly. Like our style sensibilities, our art inclinations too are in a state of constant flux and evolution...

If you want to know more about Guerresi's work, here's another interview...

Singing India: Karen Knorr's Photography

As September inches towards its end, I hope it treated you well. In our part of the world, the passage of seasons is indiscernible to the point that we are still experiencing flashbacks of the hot summer! My theory (and probably of most living in the Gulf;): summer ain't over until the AC is finally switched off:) Meanwhile, in more temperate climates, the leaves have begun to turn the colors of fire or falling, piling up on the sidewalks and street corners - and the crunchy crispness in the air allied with the startlingly bright blue skies makes for a stunning combination. (Yes, clearly, someone's getting nostalgic for autumn...or fall, if you please:)

For me, September was all about visual pickings and one of my lovely finds was British photographer, Karen Knorr's work via this image below:

Queen's Room, Zanana, Udaipur City Palace from The India Song (2010)

To say the least, it was instant love upon encountering this image...the gorgeous aqua colored walls (bit like being underwater), the elephant-headed pillars, the co-existence of grandeur and decay, and of course, the peacock, which not only visually fits into the picture but also, its very atmosphere. There are also other little aspects to the picture that appealed to me: the numerous sheets of glass propped up against the wall (they could have been jarring elements in the picture but instead becoming one of its many story layers) and the black rings on the ceiling, reminding me of similar ones studding room ceilings in our family haveli.

The image's title is Queen's Room, Zanana, indicating that the room was part of the suite of rooms/chambers used exclusively by the women royal members. The notion of the zanana is something that has intrigued me since my student days, particularly vis a vis in terms of space. Several years ago, when toying around with the idea of working on a haveli book project, I had visited several havelis as part of research and observed that the zanana section was always that particular space in the haveli which embodied beauty, luxury, and refinement: exquisite carvings, dramatically frescoed walls, and other attractive accoutrements. It was then explained to me that as women were rarely permitted to leave the zanana, the zanana was effectively their world - and hence, it was consciously created as the ultimate site of aesthetics, possibly making the external world pale in comparison to this interior one...

Meanwhile, returning to Knorr's work, here is her artist's statement about this particular series; drenched as it is in the language of academia, I was quite tempted to bypass it and simply focus on the visual language of the images alone. Nevertheless, it still makes for a fascinating exposition as to what her underlying intention is regarding the project.

Here are a couple of the images from the series that struck me the most:

Light of the World, Zanana, Nawalgarh

You might think that I consciously chose yet another Zanana image! To be honest, the simple, clean lines and the triplet of stained windows were what appealed to me...the insertion of the bird meanwhile melds into the surroundings while still being conspicuous.

The Sound of Rain

This image was taken in Barsaat Mahal, or Rain Chamber, in Junagarh Fort, Bikaner. Considering that rain in Rajasthan could be erratic in the past and drought an inevitable feature of life, it was possible that years would pass before people witnessed and experienced rain. I love the story behind the room that the Bikaner ruler at the time had the walls so densely and intricately and blue-ly painted as to conjure up monsoon clouds and rain; it effectively conveys both the cool and the stirring drama of rain-fall, disassociating you from the scalding heat and desert outside.

The Blue Room, Samode Palace

The room's breathtakingly detailed indigo-blue ornamentation is essentially what made me gravitate towards this image. However, on second thoughts, I contemplated whether to choose this very image to place in the blog. On the surface, this image feeds into and reiterates the archetypical Indian stereotypes: the gorgeous palace and the cow; yet, India has become much more than these two quintessential symbols in the recent years. However, as I thought more about the image, it occurred to me that it was in fact a startling juxtaposition of two stereotypes - would a cow actually have ever found entry into these exquisite royal chambers? This image therefore represents the intersection of the zenana's self-contained, insular prettiness and the earthy reality of the outside world. (Or so the still thriving academic in me thinks!) Nevertheless, whatever the interpretations, it still makes for a powerful image. And as for Samode palace, I have been longing to visit it since I first discovered it in a Rajasthan coffeetable book years ago - there are several others images from Samode in this series and the images will simply testify to the palace's beauty.

Here's wishing everyone a great October!

Sanjay Nanda: Pinning Down Elusive Somethings...

Several posts ago, I had mused about joining Pinterest; while I have obstinately refused to jump on the Twitter bandwagon, I could not help contemplating for the longest while that Pinterest may prove to be the exactly kind of thing that would appeal to me. I decided to try it out - and was I hooked and how!:) Its combination of online scrapbooking, mood boards, and accumulating piles of visual images, reflecting my varied interests in architecture, style, art, photography, was completely addictive and my day is definitely incomplete if I don't stop by there at least once a day. Amongst other things, I have had such a good time discovering eclectic jewelry pieces, funky style-statements and even gratuitously (and sheepishly) indulged in my affection for cute animal pictures (I have called that particular pin-board 'Adorableness Central'!) Also, judging from the insane amount of gorgeous looking food and interior ideas posted there, I am on my way towards being completely inspired about transforming the way I cook and decorate.

In the meantime, what has definitively inspired me vis a vis my photography is Indian photographer, Sanjay Nanda's work. I can't quite recall whether I discovered Sanjay through Pinterest or not; however, what I did observe is that one of the images that I pinned (below) has been the object of several repins...and with good reason, I feel.

The Marigold Offering

First off, to pare down their description to the most fundamental level, Sanjay's images are viscerally beautiful. This image of a bright, rain-washed leaf green alcove with burnt orange marigolds placed inside them is not just about exoticising the flower or encouraging dialogue about faith: it is also happens to be stunning image to look at, period. I must confess though that at times I experience a strong, almost academic need to extract some sort of narrative from a photograph - it must say something, it is saying something, or perhaps, it is indeed speaking volumes and yet, I am the one unable to hear anything! However, when glimpsing Sanjay's work, it struck me that you can often be content with the sheer aesthetics of the image alone. Perhaps, there is an intriguing story embedded inside this image; however, for me, at least at this particular moment, even if there isn't, I am equally OK with that.

A View Through the Past

This photography is the kind of work that I would aspire to create; there is something about these images that you cannot help but look at again and again. What is that elusive something-to-be-looked-at-ness though? What is it that compels you towards these images? My relationship with photography as a spectator is often dependent on the associations and thoughts that immediately mushroom through my mind while looking at the image. For example, this particular image cannot help but remind me of the textures of the walls found in the courtyard and open terraces of my ancestral haveli...there are similar arch-shaped alcoves studding the walls too. Through this image, I am transported back to my haveli while simultaneously and independently appreciating the visuals of the image itself: the graffiti heart, the layers of exposed brick, peeling plaster, and graffti, and the white and blue serenity of the domes and walls glimpsed in the distance. I love how this image is both personal and impersonal, leading me to create a completely unique relationship with it if I were to, say, hang it in my most immediate space and see it every day.

Barred Gods

Sanjay's images also deal with subjects and approaches which are akin to what I have been seeking to explore in my photography, such as eye-ball-catching wall art, and windows and doors; these are works that are inspirational in the truest sense and I look forward to further extending my explorations and fine-tuning the articulation of my particular photographic voice. At times, when you are wont to become jaded of your inclination towards a specific subject matter, someone else's fresh, full-blooded perception of the same things greatly infuses life into your own approach. Yet, the issue then becomes of ensuring that your voice remains startlingly original without falling into the trap of imitative mode...but that's another story - and post!- altogether:)

Handprints on the Wall # 2

Whether you're creating or engaging with art, it is not always necessary that you have to invest your work with multiple meanings or layers of narrative...nor must you feel obliged to to wade through them in order to fully appreciate the work. Sometimes, the act of creation is as much a thunder-bolt as the act of looking at the work itself: it need not be any more complicated than that. When I close my eyes after seeing this image above, what crystallises in my mindspace is the marriage of red and blue and flatness and depth and creates an altogether different and utterly personalised image in my head. That is art for me.

All pictures courtesy Sanjay Nanda, Indipix Gallery; have a look at his brilliant work over here.

End of May Musings...

I am *sure* we Oman denizens say it every single year but honestly speaking, this summer could not have been any hotter. Even after so many years of living here, the ferocious heat that one experiences during a May noon is still akin to dealing with a physical blow to your self and body! I happen to work in a place very near to the sea and the maritime breeze somewhat tempers the heat...but nevertheless, even walking on the beach in late afternoon is a penance. Suffice to say, we have no choice but to become nocturnal creatures, anticipating the sun's disappearance and the stars dappling the sky.

The heat's energy-sapping quality has also meant that I have been a little lax with my blogging this month and that is something I wasn't too happy about! Blogging is something that gives me a great deal of pleasure and I feel somewhat remiss when I fall behind. I don't foresee June being any cooler although it does promise to be rather busy; nevertheless, come July and I hope to introduce some changes and shake up things a bit over here...all things that I had declared back in January and did not get around to achieving so far;)

Well, my ramblings aside, here is a round-up of what I was up to during May:

I attended....

Pecha Kucha Muscat, Pecha-Kucha derived from the Japanese word for 'chit-chat', held its first event this month; the concept began in 2003 in Tokyo and afforded an opportunity for young artists and designers to showcase their work and connect with other like-minded people. Pecha Kucha nights consist of artists displaying their work through the medium of 20 images in the allotted time of exactly 20 minutes; in keeping with the '20' theme, the event charmingly began on dot at 20.20pm.

Pecha Kucha has been held in over 500 cities across the world and Muscat happened to be amongst the most recent cities to become part of the Pecha Kucha family. There were six artists present and we got the opportunity to see amongst many fascinating images a cool graphic designers' portfolio, a film-maker's storyboard, innovative installation art-works, and how an artist's works evolved over the years. I am always inclined towards listening to artists talk about and taking us through their work and for me, being in knowledge of their  back-stories/creative processes further enhances my relationship with their work.

I was inspired by...

TEDx events are independent off-shoots of the non-profit dedicated to sharing of innovative ideas, TED and I was fortunate enough to attend Muscat's second edition, having missed the first one last year. What I really liked about the event was its sheer energy and how it demonstrated that a single idea can manifest itself into something big and wonderful and grand - when it is pursued from ideation stage to fruition. It all depends on how much you are willing to nurture and aspiring to see the idea come to life.

TED talks are about stories and one of the stories at the event that I most enjoyed listening to was that of Resul Pookutty, the Oscar-award winning sound-mixer. He talked about the significance of sound in cinema and showed a scene from Slumdog Millionaire in which he explained as to what a challenge it was for him to recreate Mumbai's soundscape.

I stumbled upon....

Lebanese photographer, Rania Matar photographed 300 American and Lebanese teenage girls in their most intimate space: the bedroom for her monograph, A Girl and Her Room. I discovered her work via Corinne Martin, an artist whom I wrote about last year and whose blog has been a gold-mine of fantastic artists and events occurring in the region.

What I like about these pictures is how and the extent to which they minutely detail the girls' personalities by identifying these rooms as their personal shrines. The act of decorating their room becomes a ritual, the worship manifesting itself as the decorations, adornments, and the bedrooms' overall visual appearance. I particularly related to this photograph, especially the skyline of cosmetics that populates the dressing table. Growing up, preferring minimalism in my most immediate space (and still do!), I nevertheless allowed my dressing table to be a little more maximalist: it was a city of miniature boxes, odds and ends that I had collected (a painted earthenware pot gifted by a South African school-friend, a small Venetian mask,  and a Japanese doll), post-cards, my paintings and sketches, and piles of jewelry. I wish I had thought to photograph my dressing table  then because it so vividly and more importantly, visually reflected my personality in a way that not even a diary written at the time could do.  

I ate...

I am a self-confessed non-foodie although I do have a sweet tooth/teeth:) However, I am also partial to butter and bakery and I found an amazingly delicious intersection of them all at Papparotti, which has recently opened in Oman. Their signature Papparotti bun is a caramel-glazed delight that yields melting butter and chewy, soft bread upon slicing into it. This is the exactly sort of breakfast that I could have for days in a row!

How did the month of May treat you?

Images courtesy: isultana and Corinne Martin

Hope amid Despair

The next few days will see me travelling for a bit hence I will be silent here for the rest of this month. However, before I take off, I would like to leave you with this image that I discovered via what is easily one of my favorite websites, Mumbai Boss:

Post earthquake in Natori, Japan - Yasuyoshi Chiba, April 2011

Deepanjana Pal has written such a beautifully worded response to this image (fittingly enough, in regard to the newly minted 2012) so much so that I feel that I have little to say which will further contribute towards the understanding and appreciation of this image. However, what does powerfully resonate with me whenever I glimpse this image is the existence of hope amid despair and such incredible beauty growing and flourishing in this wasteland of shattered hopes, dreams, and human souls. In a sense, this image creates such an incredibly deep metaphor for all of us at both a personal and universal level...that one must never renounce hope, come what may.

Has there been a particular image which has impacted you at a visceral level?

Spirituality in Structure: Aadab Hyderabad

Sometime back, while participating in a group discussion about art's role in driving communities forward, the topic arose of art and spirituality. Personally speaking, for me, spirituality and the definition and significance it holds in my life is something that I find difficult to deconstruct for myself, let alone describing it to others. For a long time, I always used to consider spirituality and religion as being similar, if not virtually synonymous with one another. Yet, as time has passed by, I have begun to perceive spirituality as an awareness of the sense of the higher powers surrounding us, a mysterious, unseen Universe which contributes to the way we locate and understand our place in the world. Nonetheless, for me, I have always perceived writing as an almost spiritual process in itself: a form of meditation, a single-minded focus, leading into an alternate universe of thoughts and ideas.

However, as mentioned in a previous post, old buildings hold great appeal for me and being in presence of historical spaces, especially those in a state of ruin, often invites intense, deep reflection and introspection. There is a heightened feeling of awareness of the stories reverberating within those spaces; the architecture, the design, the shape,and the overall look of the building all contribute towards the effort to imagine what it must have been once upon a time. Beauty, romanticism, and history intermingle with one another to produce a profoundly, what I may say, spiritual experience for me.

While browsing through the vivid, beautiful images at Madhumita Gopalan's blog, Aadab Hyderabad, glimpsing the structures that she has photographed in Hyderabad, I found myself sensing the pathos of the buildings and spaces just from the deeply evocative images themselves; it was as if you had literally been transplanted into the history-laden atmosphere. Given the varied scope of Hyderabad's history, there are various historical mansions, public buildings, and tombs to be found in the city and which Madhumita so carefully records for posterity through the medium of her photography and blog. I had visited Hyderabad years ago but I look forward to discovering these places on a future visit.

Incidentally, I was charmed to learn about Madhumita's The Arch Project, where she takes special interest in photographing Islamic arches; it reminded me of my own Wall Project and the way I gravitate towards walls.

Here are some pictures from her blog:

Mishk Mahal

Shaikpet Sarai

The rust-speckled surface speaks so much: Qutub Shahi tomb

Gorgeous arches: Paigah tomb

Photographs included here with the kind permission of Madhumita Gopalan and her blog, Aadab Hyderabad, which is truly a love-letter to the city, revealing its rich historical and cultural facets.

Dayanita Singh: Spaces between Moments

The first time I encountered Indian photographer, Dayanita Singh's works was in the second issue of then newly launched Marie Claire India. There was a photo-essay about Singh's portraits of little girls and in which she narrated how involved the girls would become in the shoots, thoroughly immersed in the process of transforming themselves into alternate personae for the camera; I especially remember this one (below) from the essay, where the little girl is performing as a child bride:

Following that, I seemed to encounter her everywhere; I read about her in Suketu Mehta's seminal non-fiction book on Bombay, Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found in which she appears as Hindi film actor, Sanjay Dutt's close friend and photographs one of the book's dramatis personae. One of her monochromatic images graced the Random House India edition of Jhumpa Lahiri's 2008 short story collection, Unaccustomed Earth. As with the image on the cover of Unaccustomed Earth and all the other images that I have seen of her work, the photographs breathed a palpable presence and had so much nuanced texture, peopled or unpeopled. If ordinary photographs captured moments, ostensibly to commemorate them or simply pinion time within the camera's pincer-like lens, her images focused on the spaces between the moments. What happened when we looked away from the lens?

I recently discovered her Dream Villa series in the India issue of the cutting edge British design, art and lifestyke magazine, Wallpaper and these surrealistic, moody, nocturnal photographs were quite different to the work that I was accustomed to seeing by her. This image particularly stayed with me:

The British writer and author of the colonial Raj romance, Far Pavilions, M.M Kaye also authored a three-part biography; in the second part, she mentions an almond tree in bloom that she glimpsed en route to Kashmir. While writing her memoirs, though, she ponders whether the almond tree still exists after so many decades. She nevertheless feels that:

as far as I am concerned it is still there, exactly as it was when I first saw it, its blossoms looking like a milky way of rose-pink stars in the early morning sunlight. Only when I am dead will it cease to be real.

Glimpsing this Dayanita Singh portrait of a tree in bloom reminded me of Kaye's sentiments about the tree, the power of imagination to freeze and preserve an utterly beautiful sight for posterity...and the ability the camera possesses to do so as well. Yet, while most ordinary photographs resist changing interpretations, insistent on remaining as they are, Singh's photographs and the way you perceive them inevitably change over time: much like one yields a fresh, new reading every time you read a much-loved book, as a result of the different person that you are and have become each time you encounter the book.

Images courtesy Dayanita Singh and Wallpaper