The Serendipity Festival of Arts, which concludes today, hosted the works of emerging artists whose works reflected varied political statements by using very diverse elements. Curated by Ranjit Hoskote and Riyas Komu, the exhibition called ‘Young Subcontinent' at the PWD Complex shared a refreshing array of thoughts articulated brilliantly through artistic choices ranging from photography, traditional arts related to legends, folklore, even textile. I was particularly moved by the project called ‘Thousand Individuals' by Latifa Zafar Attaii from Kabul, Afghanistan.
Passport-sized photographs, which convey an officious requirement as "identity proof" be it for obtaining a passport or a driving license, become the fulcrum of Latifa's quaint little art installations. The identities of those in the passport photos are hidden with the used of neat running-stitch embroidery across the faces. These embroidered photographs are neatly placed in miniature wooden boxes attached to the wall. It makes for a colourful and quirky display, at once intriguing. One soon understands Latifa's reasons for masking the faces. In her words, "When feminists and ethnicity become an identity while struggling in a patriarchal society,self-expression becomes a necessity. Embroidery was not just used for decoration but mythically as a means to protect. Against all of these exclusions, deprivations and expectations, I weave the pain; the untold stories that the society refuses to see or to hear otherwise."
While politics has always evoked strong reactions for millennia. These days, however, conversations do not happen - assaulting debates, assumption-laced accusations and rhetorics have replaced a genuine desire to know the other side of the story. Everyone is convinced that their ideology is the way to go. Everyone wants to make sure they are heard and so everyone shouts at the top of their voice. It is surprising then, that even in such a bitter world, some artists put across intense political feelings with ideas so simple and innocent, that even though their ideologies definitely conflict with the views of many others, their style of representing the chaos within themselves and without - through their artwork - has the power to reach out to even the most fierce of all opponents?
Take, for example, an artwork by Sher Ali from Kabul, Afghanistan. The idea behind this painting is also on the lines of the clash of ideologies and the impossibility of putting an effort to understand the other side. is also finely executed with the help of clever symbolism. In "The embodiment of immateriality" the artist has played with the idea of a symbolic ice wall that melts by itself. He says that after the frequent blasts in Afghanistan, he wondered why the people from the same place stand against each other. He pondered over ideological differences and surmised that ideology gradually builds over a time - like an impenetrable brick wall.
There are more works that use native symbolism to convey their disappointment - or pride - at the current state of affairs. When it comes to projecting disappointment, Sher Ali creates a "gold medal" embossed with an image of a lion and his narrative explains how, in Afghani diplomacy and services of all cadres, being awarded with a medal used to be a genuine show of recognition. Sher Ali seems to lament how the process of selection, which once used to be honest and honoured only the truly deserving, has now become akin to mockery with anyone with connections or the slightest amount of fame easily getting medals. The piece, which has suffered a slight crack in transit, is rightly named "The Circus Medal."
A photo exhibition called "Fire zone of Srilanka: Tears of Tamils" by Sounthiya Amarathaas captures the shock, numbness and sorrow of Tamil civilians caught in the war and making desperate attempts to flee the war zone at the last minute. The black-and-white photo series calls for effort and introspection from the on-looker as well, because the photos contain very interesting details that seem to provide relief, a ray of hope perhaps, amidst the chaos of the war. For example, a family is seen moving away with their ramshackle possessions, and one woman is intently holding on to a cage that is almost broken and squeezed. But look close, and you find a baby monkey in the cage.
There is another photo that Sounthiya points out as one of his favourites. It is a picture of a caravan, where the eyes of almost everyone are without hope. But to the corner right-bottom of the frame, at the very edge, Sounthiya points out the family dog that is following them, wagging its tail. In one photo, the sky occupies a major chunk of the frame but for a glimpse of a fighter plane firing two shells on the top-right corner.
The deadly triangular formation of the plane and the shells - the only presence of something man made across the skyline - makes a seemingly innocent picture that documents violence in all its forms. "That was very difficult to take," says Sounthiya. Seeing the photographs, a question rings persistently in the head - What moved Sounthiya to do what he did? In his own words - "Nobody has ordered for me to take pictures. I have captured the non-stoppable ghastly consequences of the war. This is a ‘job' made without any ‘salary' from anyone."
Passport-sized photographs, which convey an officious requirement as "identity proof" be it for obtaining a passport or a driving license, become the fulcrum of Latifa's quaint little art installations. The identities of those in the passport photos are hidden with the used of neat running-stitch embroidery across the faces. These embroidered photographs are neatly placed in miniature wooden boxes attached to the wall. It makes for a colourful and quirky display, at once intriguing. One soon understands Latifa's reasons for masking the faces. In her words, "When feminists and ethnicity become an identity while struggling in a patriarchal society,self-expression becomes a necessity. Embroidery was not just used for decoration but mythically as a means to protect. Against all of these exclusions, deprivations and expectations, I weave the pain; the untold stories that the society refuses to see or to hear otherwise."
While politics has always evoked strong reactions for millennia. These days, however, conversations do not happen - assaulting debates, assumption-laced accusations and rhetorics have replaced a genuine desire to know the other side of the story. Everyone is convinced that their ideology is the way to go. Everyone wants to make sure they are heard and so everyone shouts at the top of their voice. It is surprising then, that even in such a bitter world, some artists put across intense political feelings with ideas so simple and innocent, that even though their ideologies definitely conflict with the views of many others, their style of representing the chaos within themselves and without - through their artwork - has the power to reach out to even the most fierce of all opponents?
Take, for example, an artwork by Sher Ali from Kabul, Afghanistan. The idea behind this painting is also on the lines of the clash of ideologies and the impossibility of putting an effort to understand the other side. is also finely executed with the help of clever symbolism. In "The embodiment of immateriality" the artist has played with the idea of a symbolic ice wall that melts by itself. He says that after the frequent blasts in Afghanistan, he wondered why the people from the same place stand against each other. He pondered over ideological differences and surmised that ideology gradually builds over a time - like an impenetrable brick wall.
There are more works that use native symbolism to convey their disappointment - or pride - at the current state of affairs. When it comes to projecting disappointment, Sher Ali creates a "gold medal" embossed with an image of a lion and his narrative explains how, in Afghani diplomacy and services of all cadres, being awarded with a medal used to be a genuine show of recognition. Sher Ali seems to lament how the process of selection, which once used to be honest and honoured only the truly deserving, has now become akin to mockery with anyone with connections or the slightest amount of fame easily getting medals. The piece, which has suffered a slight crack in transit, is rightly named "The Circus Medal."
A photo exhibition called "Fire zone of Srilanka: Tears of Tamils" by Sounthiya Amarathaas captures the shock, numbness and sorrow of Tamil civilians caught in the war and making desperate attempts to flee the war zone at the last minute. The black-and-white photo series calls for effort and introspection from the on-looker as well, because the photos contain very interesting details that seem to provide relief, a ray of hope perhaps, amidst the chaos of the war. For example, a family is seen moving away with their ramshackle possessions, and one woman is intently holding on to a cage that is almost broken and squeezed. But look close, and you find a baby monkey in the cage.
There is another photo that Sounthiya points out as one of his favourites. It is a picture of a caravan, where the eyes of almost everyone are without hope. But to the corner right-bottom of the frame, at the very edge, Sounthiya points out the family dog that is following them, wagging its tail. In one photo, the sky occupies a major chunk of the frame but for a glimpse of a fighter plane firing two shells on the top-right corner.
The deadly triangular formation of the plane and the shells - the only presence of something man made across the skyline - makes a seemingly innocent picture that documents violence in all its forms. "That was very difficult to take," says Sounthiya. Seeing the photographs, a question rings persistently in the head - What moved Sounthiya to do what he did? In his own words - "Nobody has ordered for me to take pictures. I have captured the non-stoppable ghastly consequences of the war. This is a ‘job' made without any ‘salary' from anyone."
