Saturday, February 29, 2020

Why look at Animals?

John Berger asked the question "Why Look at Animals?" in 1977 wherein he mourned the loss of meaning that was once held in the gaze between humans and animals. The reading seemed to suggest that the Anthropocene debate had been realised much before it became popular and serious in recent years. All his observations still remain meaningful and relevant, and infact come to surface as I was beginning to close this post!

Here are some photographs from the drawings students made in the third year Environment studio at SEA. Architecture, for the longest has hardly bothered itself with the Environment - notice the capital E. And this Environment is comprised of the diversity of life forms that often go missing from the object of representation in our practices. We have hardly addressed the issue in our practice, for we do not even begin to document them in the first place. 

In the present set of drawings, I particularly find fascinating how animals and humans begin to appear within a single frame, beginning to seem quite normal. In the drawings below, a new empathy gets mobilized. The manner in which animals occur in our fields of sight within the frame of the drawings is particularly appealing. They begin to ask questions to themselves as well as the viewer. Their bodies suggest a state of idleness or urgency, as if suggesting to us that they were simply (and are still) minding their own business. In some frames, the humans seem oblivious, or even frozen. These are landscapes we come to inhabit today.

Last year students made drawings of the transforming landscapes of Goa quarries. The earlier camouflaging snakes, peacocks and crocodiles were revealed as the terrains were torn and tree covers were peeled off. Just as they find their ways, we find our ways too. 

(all drawings by third year students, this year) 

(Photography seemed to be prohibited - as the last snapshot suggests, but I remained unobedient).













Friday, February 28, 2020

On Architectural / Education in India

One of the questions that recurrently troubles academicians is the seeming redundancy of the educational apparatus in our country – one that falls short of producing practitioners of calibre, invent and depth. Academic infrastructure, both, soft and hard, remains acutely questionable towards its output. We may count several accomplished individuals in our country today, most of whom would not attribute their key learnings to their home academies! The most equipped state sponsored institutions such as the IITs, IIMs, NIDs and others seem to fall short of the promise that their resourceful abundance must yield. A quick survey leaves us with only a handful names whose contribution could be celebrated in contemporary India. The decadence of educational institutions in India has been statistically proven, and culturally mapped across several recent films in popular culture. These rightfully bring out the overemphasis of educative processes on science and math that resulted into the saturation of engineers and doctors by early millennium in the country. Further, their lost ground gets amply demonstrated in the proliferation of parallel education engines – the private tuitions, coaching classes and the ad hoc vocational centres. Academies, instead of furthering the methodical, inquiry-oriented tenets of scientific knowledge in educational processes have reduced learning into formula-driven process, one that lacks any interpretive dimension. To a large extent, such a phenomenon is also imbricated in the literacy-oriented delivery of education, adopted by the central government that made learning more didactic, divorced from the inherent values of inducing curiosity and knowing the world. The underplaying of humanities, ignorance of languages and the side lining of the arts within the mainstream education has left us largely with uninspiring practitioners across the spectrum of knowledge fields who demonstrate a derivative landscape that lacks imagination, contextual sensitivity or even meaningful dialogue with our environment. Academic practice and the world thus seemed to have drifted apart significantly from each other.

The course of architectural education in India unfortunately fits the above narrative neatly. Instituted as a service-oriented counterpart for the colonial building apparatus, the discipline of architecture has remained a drawing-oriented profession until today. Largely placed within the domain of engineering, the architect is unfailingly supposed to aid the functional and technical requirements for building, with design as a slap-dash insert. After independence, architectural education becomes a function of the regional engineering colleges across various states in India, limited into a problem-solving discourse. In contrast, if one were to consider the architectural institutions set up by architects, the possibility for countering colonial hegemony in spatial education seemed unidentified, and hence fuzzy on the horizon. Of the few architectural institutions primarily founded by architects in the country post-independence, two stand out clearly. The Academy of Architecture in Mumbai started in 1955 by late S. H. Wandrekar, Prof. C. K. Gumaste and late V. G. Mhatre as a part time course primarily aimed to enable students to pursue architecture as a professional career; whereas the Centre for Environmental Planning and Technology (CEPT), founded by B V Doshi in Ahmedabad in 1962 with the infrastructural support of industrialists Kasturbhai Lalbhai aimed to develop an architectural sensitivity for building in India, yet remained deeply rooted in the principles of Bauhaus. Other latter architectural institutions within the country largely established by networks of developers, builders or politicians until the 1990s often grooved in architecture as a function of the market. Thus, the three tendencies that set the tone for architectural discourse in India have respectively remained embroiled in (a) bureaucratization and professionalization of the practice to match global delivery standards, (b) producing contextual responses (read “Indian” response) by principally applying European methods, or (c) attuning education to the intermediate emerging demands and forces of the market. Architectural academia in India has struggled thus, to have a voice of one’s own, free from geopolitical academic hegemony or the mere exigencies of demand and supply of the market.

Architectural theory in the South Asian region, wherein indigenous methods of spatial imagination were overlooked and restrained for around two centuries with the advent of colonial occupation, have largely followed narratives and imperatives initiated by the West. In the meagre presence of indigenous discourse on space, fresh architectural ideas were further asserted through the consumption and regurgitation of the Indian modern architects like Charles Correa, Achyut Kanvinde, B V Doshi or Anant Raje, who were themselves either trained or exposed closely in the western idiom. While they served as the key “institutions” for the curious minds within the field back home beyond the descriptive accounts of James Fergusson or Sir Bannister Fletcher, their voice too was only validated principally through the western academic spheres. Academic papers presented at conferences across the world have seemed to be imbricated in the larger world-views pre-framed by the economically powerful as a means to foray into new markets. Keywords like “vernacular”, “sustainable”, “critical regional” or “global”, around which most international conferences were designed, were subsumed as a derivative appendage for indigenous architectural discussion in the absence of design and architectural academies enabling discourses in space-making or spatial practice. In the conundrum of yet making sense of modernity, architectural academia in India too, now, seemed to be slipping in service of the new global order of economic and cultural hegemony. Studied and spoken primarily in English, the discourse of space in India hardly finds an expression in alternative native languages, regulating narrative structures for architectural thought, which could otherwise offer new orientation into spatial logics and inhabitation. Assimilation of modern thinking has thus ironically distanced us from spatial logics that could offer alternatives to contradiction-ridden landscapes we come to occupy today.

With the above preface, it is critical to consider the role of the academy and the academician – both, as a producer and consumer of the world we eventually come to inhabit. In this frame, the world is necessarily a construct, in other words, here we concern ourselves with the produced world and the terms that the academy sets for engagement with its environment. It is after all, the academy, that extends physical and intellectual infrastructure for the production of such world. Academic practice, which operates within such a framework is responsible for remaining relevant to its immediate and extended context. To be sure, academic practice is not simply the delivery of information within a classroom, rather it consists of a broader set of activities concerned with the production of knowledge and processes of administering, disseminating and furthering educational programmes. Therefore, it simply does not resolve into the creation of a bureaucratic institution, but relies on sustaining an active environment of discourse, debate and exchange of ideas. Academicians choreograph interaction of different disciplines, moderate the impact of thoughts on society, mediate relationships between objects of knowledge and potentially formulate critical and contextual ways of engagement with the emerging environment. Teaching constitutes only a small but significant part of an academician’s responsibility – one that is a space of rehearsal and / or performance of ideas. Rather it is expected that the academician will push the boundaries of the way one knows and thinks of the world through extended modes of contemplating, writing, theorizing and enabling experiments for new ideas to emerge. Moreso, academic environments must orchestrate cross pollination of ideas, meeting of interested minds through which an alternative world beyond the prosaic everyday, may be crafted. Do our institutions promise an enthusiastic environment for learners who may have the interest and potential for envisioning or pursuing such a reality rigorously?

Sunday, February 16, 2020

First Questions Exhibition at Nehru Science Centre

Building Ruins

BUILDING RUINS
RISD India Alumni Exhibition 2020




The RISD India Alumni Club was founded in 2012, with a growing network of 70+ practising artists and designers across India.

Building on the legacy of the Rhode Island School of Design, which has produced some of the most notable names in contemporary art, film, architecture and design, the club’s mission is to support its Indian alumni and through its events and programming, enriching the landscape of art and design in India. Through a variety of programming that includes talks, exhibitions and mentorship sessions the alumni hope to build a strong creative community, facilitate collaborations and enable social impact.

In February 2017 the club organised the inaugural ‘RISD India Alumni Show’ in Mumbai to much critical acclaim. The opening night was inaugurated by Rosanne Somerson - President of RISD. The show featured art and design works of Indian alumni, including Durga Gawde, Anjali Modi, Ishrat Sahgal, Malvika Vaswani and Dhvani Behl amongst others.

Building Ruins marks the second edition of the RISD India Alumni Show. It puts together a curated display of contemporary art and design by India alumni of the Rhode Island School of Design. The show serves as a platform for Indian alumni to share the richness and diversity of their practices with the larger art and design communities and the general public. It highlights the relationship between art and design and the common foundations of both disciplines. The show is organised by volunteers from the RISD India Alumni Club in collaboration with curator, Anuj Daga.

19 artists participated in the exhibition, showcasing 18 works from about 10 different design disciplines. India-RISD ties run back to more than five decades. Over these decades, close to a hundred graduates have returned back from RISD to India and continued their practices in various forms. The curatorial ambition of the show has thus been to represent RISD alumni in India from across space, time and disciplines. At the same time, it was important to dissolve the illusory boundaries between art and design, and pose their dialogue with each other. While there is a concentration of the alumni in the cities of Mumbai and Delhi, the exhibition brings experiments from RISD practitioners in Kolkata, Pune and Indore too. Practitioners with different spans of experience share a common roof in this curation. In the pursuit of showcasing disciplinary diversity within the spatial constraints, the present selection comprises of creative practitioners, from painting, sculpture, illustration, industrial design, architecture, interior architecture, graphic design, photography, sculpture and lighting, who productively feed off each other’s processes. Several conversations with the artists and designers helped expand upon their original note and fine tune them towards creating fresh works. Each of the final 19 participants interpreted the curatorial provocation through their own practice which lends the overall show a unified, yet diverse character – one that must truly represent RISD.



Participants

Aahana Miller, Aditya Dutta, Akshat Raghava, Ananya Tantia, Aparajita Jain Mahajan, Ayushi Gupta, Cynthia Director, Dhvani Behl, Ishrat Sahgal, Malvika Vaswani, Mehr Chatterjee, Mekhala Bahl, Nishita Mehta, Raghvi Bhatia, Rahoul B Singh, Shonan Trehan, Srishti Srivastava, Tanvi Maloo Mehta, Vikramaditya Sharma

Read full Catalogue here

Link
https://issuu.com/risdindia/docs/building_ruins_catalogue_final_a5_web



Process:
















Images of the final installation







Tuesday, February 11, 2020

Review for VAICA festival

published in Art India, January 2020

A Record of the Changing World

Anuj Daga discusses some of the videos he sees at the VAICA festival.


Even though the moving image format has been frequently used by visual artists in contemporary art-making, one does not find many public archives or exhibitions planned around video art in India. The VAICA (Video Art by Indian Contemporary Artists) festival rightfully fills this void and hopes to make video works accessible to anyone interested in looking at experiments within the medium. Artist Bharati Kapadia and documentary filmmaker Chandita Mukherjee have brought together 67 video works by 35 contemporary artists practising in different idioms across India. Distributed over the five Saturdays of November and screened across different cultural venues in Mumbai, the event opens up multiple commentaries with curators, artists, students and other curious minds. VAICA opens at Delhi’s Kiran Nadar Museum of Art in December.

While films – short or long – may follow a linear narrative logic or yield messaging, video art often departs into formal and imaginative abstractions. In redefining the reception of the image, music and text, video art nuances and broadens the interpretative dimension of the medium as well as the message, beyond the realm of entertainment. While independent tools for video recording became available across the world only by late 1960s, in India, they were available outside the state-owned broadcasting only from the 1990s. This was the time when portable video recording equipment could be privately imported into the country, which explains the growth of video art in India primarily after the phase of liberalization. In tracing the history of video art in India in the VAICA festival catalogue, Mukherjee explains that “[t]he first significant video art that one can remember was done in 1993 by Vivan Sundaram as part of the Memorial Show, after the Bombay riots of 1992-93 that followed the demolition of Babri Masjid. Soon after that, Navjot Altaf, responding to the same events, showed Links Destroyed and Rediscovered (1994). Then came Nalini Malani’s Remembering Toba Tek Singh (1998) taking off from Saadat Hasan Manto’s story set against the backdrop of Partition.”

In their videos, artists push the imaginative aspects of the medium and ways of seeing on the one hand, and raise questions about numerous social issues around gender, colour, environment, displacement, consumerism on the other. In doing so, many artists enhance their respective visual languages. For example, Archana Hande finds a mid-way between painting and video, achieving an animation-like quality to speak about the politics of colour and the transformation of the city in the two videos shown at VAICA. Her works All is Fair in Magic White and Of Panorama present a cross-section of several histories at once – from Mumbai’s urban past to world art. Sumakshi Singh brings us to wonder about drawing could draw itself in video. In Halfway here! she collapses the represented space and the space of representation, taking the viewer inside the drawing, disorienting our perception. The labour involved in putting the work together is revealed in the purposefully induced glitches where the disconnected lines drawn over three-dimensional surfaces, perceived coherently in the strategic videographic framing, become apparent to the viewer.

A large number of videos in the curation call for a reflection on the social issues within our country. In the restless breath-space of sound in LOC, Surekha stages the movement of a tiny ant restrained in the outline casually drawn on paper using a ballpoint pen. Over an approximately four-minute video-clip, viewers begin to understand boundaries and their metaphorical meanings. Shakuntala Kulkarni’s works principally address issues of patriarchy. In Through the Door, Kulkarni employs her experience from theatre into creating a dreamlike entrapment – a nightmarish void through which women repeatedly struggle to pass through. The troubled female body manifests the tension felt in breaking away from social impositions in this disturbingly silent video. Role I would like to play and Is this Just a Game Part I-IV theatrically enact the inner experiences of women by invoking the metaphoric capacities of popular games. Similarly, Vidya Kamat’s Wish I had stayed at Home tries to weigh the outward veneration and worship of women against their everyday objectification, assault and molestation in the public sphere. 

The politics around urban architecture is closely read in the videos of Meera Devidayal. Through spectacular shots, Devidayal takes us into the otherwise restricted, ruined landscape of shut-down Mumbai mills in A levelled Playing Field that is provisionally used by locals as a cricket ground. Soon however, as the artist juxtaposes / screens capitalist aspirations of the state onto the mill’s large open window-frames, one gets a glimpse into the kitschy Disneyland of dreams that the space may eventually become. However, in her Water has Memory, such a contested consumerist urban transformation is offset by the soft, yet ironical existence of the sea. Buildings allude to paintings as Devidayal captures the reflections of seawater sharply onto their glass facades, contrapuncted with the sounds of each other. Such a sonic editing invites us to contemplate upon the experiential relationship city dwellers of Mumbai share with the edge of the sea. Viewers are misled into thinking of rhythmic bat strokes as repeated hammering in Paribartana Mohanty’s Trees are stranger than Aliens in the Movies that unpacks moral and existential questions while being revealed into the hollow shell of Pragati Maidan Expo building in Delhi. While the building has been demolished despite fierce protests and appeals, Mohanty poses questions about architectural heritage and collective memory in the face of development.

Mithu Sen’s Unpoetry and Bharati Kapadia’s L for… work through motion typography and make letters dance as well as evoke plethora of inner emotions through the written word. Unpoetry is the artist’s diary that brings us into the space of constantly flickering, unstable nature of human thought. The screen of social media becomes the platform through which Sen voyeuristically stages to the viewers her poetic and literary world of thoughts. Dynamic appearances of letters in typing, cutting, pasting, undoing, striking off on the screen that quietly define our everyday micro-visual cultures in Sen’s imaginative rendering and recreation of the screen. In her L for…, Kapadia brings viewers to swim in a range of emotions through which she charts a topography for the landscape of LOVE. Dismantling it as an acronym, Kapadia creates a glossary of words indexed in the four letters L, O, V, E, that realize their emotions visually through gesticulating typography. A quick counterpart of the same script in sign language enacted by dance practitioner Avantika Bahl, directed by Kapadia offers an expanded reading to the definition of love.

Video remains a crucial medium through which several art / forms are able to survive as documentation. Performance works of artists like Muskaan Singh, Manmeet Devgun or Jeetin Rangher essentially mount the body or (its) installation as the material for visual consumption, risking the ambient evocation of the act that centrally impacts the reception of such work. It is here that the question of what constitutes ‘video art’ surfaces, for in these, the medium is then harnessed merely in its functional radius rather than teasing its audio-visual potentials. A new visual culture emerges as mobile phones today have lent almost everyone the capacity to be a producer of video, furthering the question of when, after all, does video become art? In the concluding panel discussion, art historian V Divakar alarms us of his concern over the canonization of the medium, successfully challenged in the proliferating democratization of the means of production of video. What do we then anticipate as the opportunities and / or pitfalls of the emerging video culture that is produced and disseminated independently? We hope that the festival will grow in the future to shape critical discourse around video art, and involve audiences in thinking about the ways in which they craft and consume an environment increasingly encompassed in moving images.



First Questions

How were buildings made before the British introduced the orthographic methods of drawing? How did the focus on orthographic drawing and European construction methods shape the thinking and practice of architecture in India? Can construction be thought through ideas beyond permanence and resistance? How do we think of a history of architecture beyond styles? Why should the architect disturb this status quo? What is the value of fiction in architecture? How do we mobilize data meaningfully in architecture? What is the experience of technology? What are the limits of resource extraction? How do we understand and reconfigure digital-material relationships in architecture? In what registers can architects think of space and form? What processes would strengthen acts of meaning making with our environment? What questions must be asked for emerging urbanism? What is research in architecture? Several such inquiries, gathered by academics at the School of Environment & Architecture (SEA) have resulted in the book ‘First Questions’ that provokes spatial practitioners to challenge their equation and role in addressing the built environment. The book marks the completion of first five years of experiments and interrogations at SEA, oriented towards making inroads into these inquiries, as much as generating new ones. The thirteen incisive essays layout a landscape of thoughts that architects, academics and students ought to engage in urgently, and intimately. It is time we asked these first questions.


Parul Gupta / Space; underscore


essay for Parul Gupta's works displayed at Studio reD, Prabhadevi.

Space; underscore


While Newton believed that smaller masses in space are fundamentally attracted into the gravitational “pull” of the heavier ones, Einstein suggests that objects essentially experience a spatial “push” that determines their movement and relative position concerning each other. Parul Gupta’s works are tensioned between the above “push” and “pull” of space, characterized in her experiments with the practice of drawing. In her sensitive perception that is intuitively moved by the silent suggestions of shifting lights, shadows, events and perspectives, Gupta essentially morphs space into a dynamic entity. Through her works, one can consider several scientific as well as perceptual registers of space- time at once, that get translated into drawings, sculptures and site-specific interventions. In doing so, Gupta underscores her works not simply as an aesthetic preoccupation, instead as a fertile field of knowledge.



 

A series of squares set within meticulous grids destabilize our modes of perception. Stable tilts, deviating parallels, unidentical equals and accurate unfits characterize these works. On a deeper gaze, seemingly stable Cartesian space begins to appear warped. Is one cheated into a perceptual labyrinth or has one entered a space of distortion? Gently diverging lines of the substratum and the surface leave one thinking about their interspatial relationships. The solid squares leap out of the paper, the drawings take one deeper into the infinitum of the grid. In this tension, the viewer is challenged on his/her grounds of rationality. 

Gupta’s works index and overlap several spatio-temporal graphs that invite closer investigation. Densities of space created in folding, releasing, splitting, dissecting, fading or strengthening lines within an imagined continuum narrates numerous stories. Are these scores waiting to be sounded into music, or are these barcodes of a number yet to be counted? Are these the unfolded scales of early observatories that were built to map the cartography of the skies; or are these seismographic charts that mark the tectonic shifts to which our everyday gets attuned on ground? Are they streams of microwaves within which we are inevitably swimming or the rhythms of a pulsating organ emanating from within the body? As we consider these questions within the artist’s finely drafted lines, encompassing poetry of mathematics begins to emerge. 

What does a line want to be? Perhaps in Gupta’s practice, this question is inexhaustive. The lines take multifarious forms creating degrees of opacity and translucency, rigidity and movement. Gupta demonstrates that her lines are continually breathing and have an agency of their own. They fold the viewers within forces of space to guide them into gentle action. Her works are orchestrations of line assemblies that do not limit themselves within the bounds of the frame. Instead, they speak to its edges and even bargain to enter from outside or escape from within them. It is here that her serious constructions assume an emancipatory quality of play and find their planes of engagement with the observer.




All images: Parul Gupta.