A woman's work

(Published in Crest, April 3, 2010)

It’s a woman’s world, for sure. Even as an annually tom-tommed Women’s Day brings with it its ephemeral share of promises of reforms and more, the woman knows her place. Silently, powerfully, determinedly, she goes about her work to the best of her personal ability, never mind the support the government, society and family may or may not give her. And, like all those anywhere, everywhere, who know why and how they are strong and essential, what she does may not be seen, heard or acknowledged, but it rarely remains undone. Which makes her indispensible; her work never done.

Tapping into that truth is Bose Krishnamachari, curator of a two-part art exhibition: Her Work is Never Done. At Gallery BMB, Mumbai, the first part opened earlier in March, while the second began March 26. It showcases the work of a number of young, not-often-seen women, most involved in more everyday careers, be it architecture, graphic design or fashion. There is no unifying style or concept, just a deeply felt and sometimes quirkily expressed creativity that cannot be categorised or classified, but which says a great deal about feeling, sentiment, society, environment, a global culture and an oddly exciting message about freedom and the will to succeed. The artists include Aishwarya Laxmi, Atmaja Manidas, Charmi Gada Shah, Dia Mehta, Divya Thakur, Koumudi Patil, Nisha Ghosh, Parvathy Nayyar, Poorna Rajpal, PS Jalaja, Puja Puri, Remen Chopra, Sakshi Gupta, Siji R Krishnan, Suchitra Gahlot, Nandini Valli, Leena Kejriwal, Parul Thakker, Nivedita Deshpande, Shilpa Chavan, Sukanya Ghosh, Shaina Anand and Lavanya Mani.

Bose, who brought these diverse sensibilities together under a loosely encapsulating title, explains that he has been looking at exploring this for a while now. “When I was looking at Indian contemporary art, traveling around, talking to people doing good work, people associated with different art practices, I found that there is a constant exchange – architects are always interested in creating sculptural works, graphic artists experiment with poster making, for instance.” He believes that “Young girls, more in cities, are dedicated and talented, capable of doing future art. They have multiple interests, each being an extension of what they normally do - which makes them complete artists, expressing themselves in so many ways.” And it made sense for him to bring these talented individuals together into one space.

Sonia Jose, showing carbon pigment diptychs on paper and a handwoven shag rug, says, “Bose chose work that he thought would fit into the show; the decision was largely his, but he also discussed it with me. The works shown, I had already done; I had them in my studio but I hadn’t yet exhibited them.” The diptychs need study, but the rug has a more direct message, though its significance has to be explained. “I made the work at a time when I was looking for solutions to calm my mind. Friends suggested meditation. Through the ages and across cultures, forms of repetition have been widely used as a tool for meditation. I chose the words ‘so much to say’ hoping that repeating and playing with them might slowly eclipse my need/desire/compulsion to have anything to say. But the work wasn’t about the words, or the finished rug, but the process, which was very cathartic,” Jose explains. Spread on the floor, the piece invites a lie-down and the viewer is drawn to do so…and then the words take over, the whiteness stops any advance. “The text on each strip is legible, but appears noisy as a whole. The rug appears soft and inviting, but it is also white and sterile-looking making it intimidating to touch, walk over or lie on. The idea of displaying it as a rug was a formal and conceptual decision that came during the process of making the work.”

According to Nisha Ghosh, a Bangalore-based architect, “Bose has seen my earlier work exhibited in Mumbai and allowed me the freedom to do what I felt was appropriate for this show.” Her sculptural piece has a stainless steel mesh in the company of lacquered wood in egg shapes, all imbued with a somehow cool and calming effect. Her deconstructed fish, which “has its own story, was made a while ago, but was put together recently in response to a ‘thought jotting’. The work happens always in bits across time, sometimes stitched, sometimes collaged, to talk about an idea.” And what, in this case, is the idea? Ghosh days, “There are clues in the form, clues in the materials used and clues in the composition that may be obvious…” Or perhaps not. But then she provides another clue: “It is in one sense also a tight-lipped, tongue-in-cheek frustration at an environmental apathy that can mutate things out of normal course.”

Perhaps most directly apropos to a woman’s work, especially in this country, is Shilpa Chavan’s mannequin with some rather extraordinary baggage attached to it (her?). Often called the “hat lady” with a considerable amount of awe and respect flavouring the nickname, Chavan is best known as Little Shilpa, her fashion moniker, and creates some of the most fantastical and, indeed, interesting headgear and accessories seen on the ramp – Indian and international – today. Her work stands tall; a mannequin for which “the title of the show was the inspiration. I wanted to revolve it around the woman and what she uses around the house and in everyday life.” The figure is decorated with rubbish scoops, tea strainers, rubber slipper straps and other utilitarian objects familiar to any woman who knows how her home functions. The mosquito netting skirt holds moon-like lights, with babies inside, the head has wheels turning. “She multitasks, making babies, working in the house, her brain is always functioning. And with all this, she holds a mirror, she is always thinking of being beautiful.” Whimsy makes for art with a message conveyed not with a sledgehammer, but with wit and that little twist that makes it fun. Chavan says, “When I do fashion shows, it is art. When I do art, it is more like fashion. I am in an in-between phase, which I am okay with. The fashion world interprets it in their way; the art world sees it in their own way.”

Hair is the bon mot of Nandini Valli Muthiah’s work, “for lack of a better title”. For the original set of photographs, created for another time, place and show, “I had originally planned to shoot as many women as would have been willing, but ended up with shooting only about eight, myself included. The brief wanted the artist to explore sexuality and I thought about how hypocritical our society has become about sex, considering that our temples have imagery that might state otherwise.” It took time and introspection before inspiration struck, and Valli “came up with what flowers really represent in our culture, mostly southern Indian culture, since I’m from the South. Flowers for the hair are worn by women of all walks of life, irrespective of caste and class, even some sects of South Indian Muslim women. They are used to show that the woman is fertile; you will never find a widow wearing flowers in her hair. That is the conditioning that the society has done to us. Flowers are a significant part of traditional Indian attire of the sari for almost every Hindu,” especially for a dress-up occasion. The four images on show have women, two married, two not, who come from two distinct classes - the middle class and the lower class (who work as maids or cooks). The complete series represents women from all walks of life from the lower to the upper class. They sit, dressed up, bejeweled and wearing flowers in their hair, with their backs to the camera, proud, beautiful and powerful.

And there are plenty more. Dia Mehta’s photographs, imbued with the olde worlde charm of Lala Deen Dayal, create elaborately staged and posed royal tableaux, with the women being not real people, but mannequins, which could be a rather telling statement about their status in that society, or even a more modern time. Aishwarya Laxmi shows portraits of Brazilian transgender individuals, with elaborate makeup and disturbing additions to the pictures of garish jewels, brilliant flowers and more. Jasmeen Patheja of the collective Blank Noise documents street violence and even teasing in a video installation, while Nivedita Deshpande’s installation captures the spirit of the feminine with shadows and light and ordinary materials used in a very un-ordinary way.

Some of the works on display are recent, Bose says, while others have been in the making and planning for a while now. “Some have not been seen much, or not been recognized the way they may want. I wanted younger artists, newer ideas, to make meaning out of an association. I am never interested in thematic projects, but in the talent of the artist – how much potential, how interesting, how creative, etc, they can be.” He has also explored the concept of arte povera, or using very cheap, very ordinary, everyday materials to create art. “I find it very interesting, the mediums, the process, and so on.” It is all a work by various women in progress, one that will change and evolve and grow with time and situation. After all, a woman’s work, she knows well, is never done!