Many Media, Some Notes

Sweet Unease by Ranbir Kaleka

Volte, Colaba

16^th December 2010 – 15^th February 2011

I’ve always had some difficulty engaging with trans-media art. Unlike the more traditional and conventional forms that I have grown accustomed to, works of this nature rarely come with the in-built cues that tell viewers what to watch out for, what to attend to, what to acknowledge. Trans-media art makes for a more immersive experience – viewers must contend with multiple streams of information and sensory stimuli, and arrive at a negotiated understanding of what they see, hear and sense. Viewing such art is a challenging and often unwieldy process – which is why it helps when the effort seems rewarding.

‘Sweet Unease’ Ranbir Kaleka’s first solo exhibition in Bombay, offers an introduction to some of the art he has been producing over the last decade. These trans-media works are simultaneously interesting and intricate, consisting of video, audio, pictures, and paintings overlaid on one another. Each work calls for a conscious engagement – whether it is ‘Cul-de-sac at Taxila’ (2010), a Murakami-esque juxtaposition of a man, a hammer and a horse; ‘The Kettle’ (2010), a riff on the many settings and scenes an everyday object can inhabit; or ‘He Was a Good Man’ (2008) a meditation on the inanity of an ordinary human life.

I approached these works looking for a hook or two that would allow me to access them in their entirety – a wasted effort, because I soon realized that there is no one element that holds them together. They are complex, and demand time and absorption. Eventually, I had to permit myself to experience the works in fragments and parts, and it was only through repeated viewings that I was able to derive some sense of the wholes. It seems to me that this lack of coherence is at least partly deliberately constructed. 

Kaleka superimposes the bizarre onto the ordinary, the almost-there onto the most-certain, and his works retain a slipperiness that evokes those moments in which we realize that things are not always what they seem, and that there are cracks beneath even the most solid surfaces. He forces us to grasp at images and meanings, and there is a palpable open-endedness to the viewing. There is an all too rare conjunction here between media and theme(s), and I wonder why we haven’t seen or heard more of him. 

Myth ↔ Reality: Constructing Cult-u’re - Group Show

The Guild, Colaba

4^th-30^th January, 2011

The name of the exhibition, the punctuation, the pun, all work together to assert that this is a show about the continuous making, re-making and un-making of myth, fact, belief and consequently, culture. We are invited to think of culture as mutable, as a dialogue rather than inheritance.

Such themes that lend themselves easily to multiple interpretations. Sutras scrawled on driftwood, the evanescence of reflections, the mysteries of the physical world in which a single substance can be liquid, solid and vaporous, the implications of the many meanings and pronunciations of a given name, the increasingly intimate connections between consumer choice and personal identity, the multiplicity of personal narratives – these are all legitimate, if not equally accomplished or sophisticated ways in which to address the constructs of self and permanency.

The works I found most interesting were Job Koelewijn’s ongoing reading project, in which the act of reading is endowed with physicality, transforming our experience of text. Renata Poljak’s videos and photographs spotlighted the intersection of costume, performance and nationality – perhaps the show’s only attempt to explore culture within an explicitly political framework. 

The show was relatable, accessible, earnest and honest, but I must admit it would have been interesting to see a little more conceptual complexity, and to have had the artists push their envelopes a bit further. Having known the curator, Veerangana Solanki, for some time now, I am aware that she attempts to seek out artists we don’t often see, and media we don’t attend to enough (along with everything else, two movies by Johan Grimonprez are screened at regular intervals). She’s succeeded on both those counts, although the show is fun, rather than exceptional. 

I Went, I Saw, I Liked

More than most other contemporary artists, Anish Kapoor has a reputation that very decidedly precedes him. He been feted and celebrated so widely, and so well, that it is difficult to approach his shows as a first-time viewer with anything resembling objectivity. One perceives his work through the lens of all that has already been declared and exclaimed upon – and it is possible that there is little of consequence left to say. Which is why I wended my way to Mehboob Studios not to analyze, but to experience Anish Kapoor’s particular brand of art.

The viewing is very much a bodily experience – an experiment in juggling so many different ways of seeing and perceiving that the combined effect is likely to leave one reeling, quite literally. It is possible to walk towards the glittering surfaces of ‘Untitled, 2010’ and ‘Untitled, 2008’ as well as the multiple ‘Non-Objects’ and feel one’s sense of space and proximity flounder. There is a point at which one feels inclined to almost ‘tip over’ into the illusory spaces they create.* These are not so much sculptures as they are cleverly designed rabbit-holes that test our notions of up and down, big and small, motion and stillness. And lest one get too drawn into the polish and gleam of metal, two large waxworks anchor the exhibition space with their looming solidity. ‘Shooting into the Corner’ is the more spectacular of the two, consisting of a cannon-like device that shoots wax pellets onto a white wall. The echo of the shot reverberates loudly, deliberately unsettling viewers and introducing an aural element into the show.

I saw the exhibition as part of a guided tour, and while the guide left much to be desired, I was impressed by the degree to which audiences were moved – either intellectually or physically – by what Kapoor had created. Men and women of different ages walked back and forth between the pieces, examining their own widths and heights from all angles, pulling funny faces. People spoke articulately about how the works affected them, interested them, excited them. One person noted the contradiction between the fluidity of the metal, and the heaviness of the wax. Another spoke about reflections and new perceptions. Someone else got so nauseous that he had to leave the room. All of this happened in spite of the fact that the venue – run down and devoid of personality – was ill chosen, and the placement of some of the works seemingly arbitrary.

It has been a while since a show in Bombay has done something to its audience. I suspect that while some of us enjoy thinking about art, many more of us enjoy responding to it. I recommend this show - because it is Anish Kapoor, because it is his first time exhibiting in India, because Bandra is conveniently located, because the works are distinctive, but mostly because they have to be encountered, rather than seen.

*Which is probably why there are so many anxious docents posted on ‘guard duty.’