Cultural tropes - Real and Imagined

I was thinking about the cultural context of this residency when I got distracted by the question of how we define or look at culture (especially in a country like India, especially at a time like now).  Time and again I find myself coming back to a text that has become a favourite over the years, “The Location of Culture” by Indian-born, Harvard Professor, Homi K. Bhabha.

“The very concepts of homogenous national cultures, the consensual or contiguous transmission of historical traditions, or ‘organic’ ethnic communities – as the grounds of cultural comparitivism - are in a profound process of re-definition,” Bhabha tells us. He also says, “This interstitial passage between fixed identifications opens up the possibility of a cultural hybridity that entertains difference without an assumed or imposed hierarchy…”

It’s this space that he keeps talking about, this in-between state: between classifications, between geographies, between times.  It is this borderline space of possibility, of “invention and intervention,” that allows for creativity and newness. In a way, Bhabha’s concepts link the inter-disciplinary nature of this residency to the transitional phase India seems to be in at the moment.

At the recent Indian Art Summit (Jan 2011), cultural practitioners and theorists talked about India being in a “hybrid state” between old-word Nehruvian Socialism and new-world Global Cosmopolitanism.  Some fervently disagreed and said that this notion of “new India” only applied to a certain sector of society and therefore had limited currency.  Although this may be the case, I think it would be fair to say that India has dramatically changed over the last 10-15 years and that this shift in awareness, lifestyle and possibilities is trickling down into many aspects of society – including the art world.

Brandon Ballengee while on this residency in India has been thinking about this collision of sorts, and explains how it has penetrated his art practice.  He has been looking at the “new wave of Indian art clashing with Western art” which has resulted in the canvases in his studio being displayed at a tilt. (The stark white canvas suggests De-constructivist, Minimalist forms – but the tilt makes us see that it is meant to be presented in an altered state).

In the same studio he has created a “buffet for insects,” covering a long table with perfectly-presented petunias and carnations, placed upon a frilly white table-cloth.  He explains that this looks at his larger concept of “cross-pollination” where different facets of the public can be brought together through a work like this.  These different facets are particularly contrasted in a country like India, hence the additional details in his work.

One of the readings of Dan and Heather’s work could also look at this city’s shift in recent times.  As the city has been expanding rapidly, much of the peripheral farmlands have been engulfed to make way for property-developers.  Stories of farmers cashing in their livelihoods and their heritage have been rife, while the elite are increasingly using their Delhi farmhouses as retreats or for social entertaining.

By growing barley up the walls of a building located in a simultaneously urban yet rural location (KHOJ studios is in Khirkee Village in South Delhi and stands opposite a new shopping mall – you seldom get such old world meeting new) their work takes on connotations of past histories and present realities.

On the other-hand if we take a less analytical, more practical approach – this may be an encouraging look at how we should be growing more gardens in the urban space – whether on roof-tops or simply vertically on our walls!

KHOJ as a synchronised micro-habitat

At this moment in time, ‘KHOJ studios’ is probably greener than ever before – not just in an eco-friendly sense, but also quite literally.

The two sides of the inner courtyard have been taken over by Dan & Heather and Pratik’s installations.  On the left you have “Khoj Court” with barley sprouting up the walls of the arched courtyard enclosure – on the right, green netting protects Pratik’s small clay pots filled with millet seed, which spell out the word “FORGIVE.”

While Dan conscientiously waters his vertical harvest five times a day, Pratik watches over his bird and squirrel-attracting sanctuary, documenting the wildlife from his first-floor studio.  Nurturing their creations, you can well understand what makes working with living material so engaging and why there really is no beginning and end-point to this type of work – process, product and after-life are all intertwined.

Also in the studios above are Brandon and Navin’s insect-attracting interventions.  Using UV lights, fruit and flowers they observe the various food-chain interactions occurring in their re-worked collaborative installation “Meet the neighbours.”  Whereas Navin’s interest lies in recording “data-deficient” organisms, Brandon is keeping a “bug-blog!”

It has been heartening and fascinating to see what affect being together for four weeks, in KHOJ, in India has had on these artist’s practice and psyche.  It’s actually not something that is easy to explain or very tangible in many cases, but here are some of the ways they seem to have impacted each other’s sensibilities:

- At the start of the residency, Pratik gave Heather and Dan a book on spirituality and reincarnation.  Pratik often explores the relationship between science, logic and ritual, whereas Dan and Heather are very conscious of the relationship between mythology and plant-life, often talking about Greek, Nordic and pre-Christian gods of vegetal resurrection.

- Navin’s initial explorations of the Yamuna looking for life and trying to record sub-sonic frequencies (which effectively didn’t transpire in the end) led Pratik to the same site – where he discovered Siberian migratory birds at a shamshaan ghat.  Pratik is now using videos of feeding these birds as part of his final work for the residency.

- Also Navin and Brandon, as mentioned above, have collaborated on a work that they hope to engage the whole community in.  Meanwhile, the insects from their studios are interacting with Pratik’s created habitat.  The birds attracted by Pratik’s installation are interacting with Dan and Heather’s courtyard full of barley.  All that’s left now is for the humans to come and visit!

  

Philosophy and Perspective

Following on from my last post I was thinking about unpredictability and the creation of new ideas (“Is it possible to have an original thought?”) when I came across this paper on “Creativity, Constraints, and Conceptual spaces” by Margerat Boden.  She says,

“Devotees of the humanities expect to be surprised. An arresting metaphor or poetic image, an unpredicted twist of the plot, a novel style of music, painting, or dance...all these unexpected things amaze and delight us. Scientists, too, appreciate the shock of a new idea--the double helix, the jumping gene, or the benzene-ring. Indeed, unpredictability is often said to be the essence of creativity. 


But unpredictability is not enough. At the heart of creativity lie constraints: the very opposite of unpredictability. Constraints and unpredictability, familiarity and surprise, are somehow combined in original thinking.”

Original thinking and the production of new ideas is easier said than done.  Philosophy teaches us that no idea is essentially new, there are just different ways of presenting and exploring them.  (Case in point: The first entry on this blog is about how I see scientists and artists as translators of the world around us – and then I met Prof.  Sundar Sarrukai who has written an entire book on the similarities between science and translation!)

And when you become involved with a residency like this, I think you have to ask yourself: Are we doing something new here?  If artists have been working with the natural environment for decades now – where does the relevance of this residency lie?

Well, we know that an institution like KHOJ’s wider aim is to ask new questions, where some answers may be found and others may shed light on further areas that need to be explored.  And this is how progressive “alternative art institutions” eventually go down the route of taking on both laboratory and pedagogical functions. (Examples include Homeworks in Lebanon, Sharjah Art Foundation in the U.A.E. and KHOJ in India)

But for me, this residency is primarily about the creation of new perspectives.  Artists and scientists do not have the same starting points, in fact, none of us do – we all come with our own notions of what comprises good art and bad art, what constitutes the domain of science and the roles that both art and science play in society.  This is naturally part of our subjectivity, but if we can come to some kind of mutual, conceptual meeting point, then perhaps we can begin to build upon those existing ideas.

As the art historian Erwin Panofsky once said, “The future is constructed out of fragments of the past – nothing appears ex nihilo.”

So, if we create the conditions for artists, scientists and the wider public to engage in a dialogue in which (often misconceived) notions can be challenged, we can commence to break down traditional barriers – like the recent talk we had at Foundation for Indian Contemporary Art (FICA).  And if we create the conditions in which new artwork, reflective of our zeitgeist, can be produced and received, then we can way contribute in a valid way to the world of contemporary art – like the studio/public work being done during the month-long residency and its review at the opening.

Essentially, interdisciplinary residencies like this try to map out new and less restrictive ways of thinking about art – which is the opening up of perspectives.  And I believe this is what makes a residency like this conceptually, creatively and most importantly contextually relevant.

Frogs, Bugs and Ethics

Brandon is probably one of the most "science-y" artists on this inter-disciplinary residency.  As a widely-exhibited, multi-disciplinary artist and an amphibian biologist specializing in limb development, he traverses both the world of science and art with ease.  In fact, he’s also doing a trans-disciplinary PhD which gives him the flexibility to focus on both his loves – frogs and aesthetics.

(Wait a minute, I just used the words inter-disciplinary, multi-disciplinary and trans-disciplinary in the same paragraph - the lines between ecology and art really are beginning to blur at this point!) But as Brandon sees it, why should the lines between disciplines be drawn at all? What we really should be doing is “connecting the dots.”

Brandon’s “bio-art” practice helps him to engage in what he calls a type of “ecosystem activism.” This is essentially raising community awareness of the environment, through physical field trips, art gallery installations and public art interventions.  All of this amounts to “tactile and experiential learning”; tools that he believes to be far more valuable and accessible than traditional methods of knowledge acquisition.

But his work is more than just didactic messages.  “Art can’t be art unless it’s somehow open-ended.  Otherwise it’s just propaganda or illustration,” he tells us.  And it is this room for doubt that has fuelled his drive, and his extensive research, over the years.   Involving two unpredictable variables – ecosystems and the public – Brandon embraces the potential chaos factor (much like the Fluxus artists did) in both his methodologies and his outcomes.  This is all part-and-parcel of what happens when you work with living systems.

Also extremely important to Brandon is the issue of sustainability and the after-life of his artworks.  This is one of the ways in which this type of work differs to that of other artists – it raises the question of ethics in art.

When your artwork involves creating micro-habitats, what happens to the work after the exhibition/project is over?

Aware of this issue, KHOJ has been involved with negotiating potential sites for some of the transportable artworks in this residency (including Pratik’s “FORGIVE” installation and Brandon’s “Love Motel” public art intervention at Select City Walk shopping mall) so that they may be ‘housed’ for some time after the residency ends if possible.

During his time at KHOJ, Brandon is creating two site-specific installations – one as mentioned above in the mall, and the other in the studio.  Both intend to attract a number of insects with a variety of fruit, UV light and native plants.  As part of this Brandon is keeping a “bug-blog” to keep track of all the creatures that he is able document in his time in India.

But in the meantime a gecko has infiltrated the camp and seems to be quite enjoying the easy access to the plethora of insects in Brandon’s KHOJ studio...Unpredictability prevails!

Face it

The thing about Dan and Heather’s works is that they confront you head-on and ask, “what’s your relationship with the world around you?” There’s nowhere to hide from them.   I can’t decide if they're passively aggressive (like Rothko) or aggressively passive (like Kahlo) - either way, they make you stop and re-examine your sense of self and your place in the world.

This is not to be misunderstood - there is peace, serenity and beauty in their works.  Actually, I wouldn’t mind living inside one of their wondrous foliage-filled installations for a while.  It’s just that their pieces have the potential to leave you altered...and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.  In fact, isn’t that part of what art is meant to do?

Dan and Heather (more commonly known as Harvey and Ackroyd) are a UK-based artists’ collective who have been successfully collaborating together for the past 21 years.  They have worked with grass seed, clay and animal bones in the past and often investigate the interplay between dichotomies of material and form, organic and inorganic, nature and man.

As part of their extensive and experimental oeuvre, they have transformed disused churches, prominent city buildings and now the Khoj courtyard, into grassy havens; they have displayed whale and camel skeletons covered in crystallized salt particles in museums and abandoned houses; and they have burnt a polar-bear bone into ashes, collected the carbon remains and grown striking diamonds from it.

Inspired by the visionary artist Joseph Beuys, Heather and Dan have also collected hundreds of acorns from Beuys’s seminal work “7000 Oaks” and grown around 250 saplings of their own.  In a way, they are continuing to explore some of the questions he began asking such as:  “Can art have an impact on socio-political thinking?”

The difference in today’s climate is that one can no longer ignore the environmental issues at hand.  “It’s not an issue,”  Heather says, “it’s too big to be an issue – it’s every level of our being, how we drink coffee in the morning, how we drive to work – it’s completely systemic.”  Inevitably, Heather and Dan have become more politicised over the last decade and often feel that civilized society is increasingly isolating itself from nature.

Their portraiture works look at this dysfunctional relationship between the man-made and the natural, but also explore notions of permanence, mortality and temporality.  While at Khoj, they have photographed local women in Khirkee village.  They will then grow grain onto canvas while projecting an image of the human face onto it, so that it is captured by the chlorophyll pigment within the cells.  Such images may only last for a few days, at most a few weeks, before they fade away.

So there you have it - growth, revival, transformation, death, decay – all in one work.

And working with living material means that their work also draws upon ("almost osmotically") the histories, narratives and even mythologies associated with buildings or localities in which they grow their installations.  I for one am intrigued to see what the significance of their latest barley seed works done at Khoj will take on - and I can’t help but wonder how their works may add another layer of understanding to our perception of the world around us.    

Look and Listen

After our second weekly meeting at Khoj today, I have come to the conclusion that there are two different things going on in this residency:

1) The artists are interacting/communicating with each other – which is to be expected.
2) The artworks are interacting/communicating with each other – which is perhaps a little unexpected...
(More on how Khoj is turning into its very own unique eco-habitat later!)

While much of this is happening unintentionally, for Navin Thomas his primary focus is to make his artworks “speak.”  He explains it to us so:

“I wanted to work with materials closest to me - radio and ecology; it’s not sculpture, it’s not ‘print on canvas,’ it’s not ‘pure object.’  I want to ask: what happens beyond the system of objects?  I try to push that dialogue further.  Seeing as I come from an acoustic background, I pursue the idea of how to make the objects speak.”

And so that brings us to Navin’s first work-in-progress for this residency consisting of steel urinals, which will hopefully emit sub-sonic frequencies recorded at the Yamuna River.  Except there is one problem – not much seems to move in the thick sludge of the Yamuna.

This sacred river is so polluted by our sewage and waste products that when Navin held a ‘hydrophone’ (an instrument used to sense life-forms) into it he was unable to detect any signs of life – except one, some kind of cat-fish, with red-bulging eyes.

Which brings us to his next work, part of a series called “Meet the neighbours” where he will be displaying these supposedly mutated fish in large water-tanks.  He is curious to study its possible mutations but he’s also just curious to see what kind of creature is capable of sustaining itself in such conditions.

And that’s the main makhzat (purpose) of Navin’s works: to observe.  He isn’t particularly interested in highly technological media as he doesn’t want the audience to be distracted by spectacle – he just wants us to observe and for the various structures and animals in his artworks to speak...mostly to each other.

“Ode to Dengue” is also going to be in a similar vain – an architectural structure that will record the effects of lunar and U.V. light on the local bat colony and insects.  This not only looks at the influence of urban architecture on ecology, but asks the question of “how defunct structures can sustain all kinds of ecology.”

When I ask about what inspires Navin, he tells me “I’m not influenced by artists – I go to the flea-market for inspiration.  I think you can tell a lot about a culture by what it throws away.  I observe objects, I try to understand them by bringing them home and making them speak.”

Emergence/Immersion

One of the best parts about being an art critic is interviewing artists.  It’s the one time we get to stop talking and start listening.

As I sit down to interview one of the more ‘emerging artists’ on this residency, Pratik Sagar, he tells me that neither his English, nor his Hindi is very good.  Surprising then, given this supposed communication gap, that over the course of an hour we manage to talk about disciplines diverse as philosophy, politics, biology, religious studies and semiotics – not to mention art history.

Despite being interested in science and almost training to become a Homeopath, Pratik formally trained as an artist.  And despite his extensive knowledge of Religion and his leanings towards spirituality, he doesn’t actually believe in God.  Given these diverse interests, his artworks take on multiple connotations and reach many levels – just as his thought processes do

Pratik first started working with animals and food after a pivotal incident involving the death of a kitten he was trying to save.  This led to an important piece in his developing oeuvre called “Mother’s Milk.”  For this performance-based work, Pratik filled many small bowls with cow’s milk, and arranged them to spell out the words ‘Mother’s milk.’  Puppies came to drink the milk and in the process, destroyed the formation of the lettering.

The irony of the puppies drinking the given milk rather than their mother’s was evident but Pratik was also looking at meaning attributed to particular words and the deconstruction of those words. Similarly he formed the word ‘absent’ out of sugar which duly disappeared when consumed by ants, and the word ‘lust’ out of honey which left just the lettering ‘us’ when eaten by insects.

OK, you could say, so his work incorporates performance, ecology and post-structuralist thinking – that’s interesting but there’s only so far one can go with that, right?  Actually it seems to be the way Pratik uses these elements that continues to fascinate.  Different works take on ritualistic meanings, comment on socio-political changes, bring together communities and simultaneously document wildlife.

In this very Khoj residency, Pratik has taken trips to the Yamuna River at sunrise and fed migratory birds at the shamshaan ghat; an environment usually associated with cremation rituals.  Yet Pratik’s performative act brings together elements of death, ritual, ecology and life; his art practice almost synthesizes new rituals, ones that include the notion of hope.

But there is also despair in his works.  His early experiments at art school were inspired by the 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks which included a piece called “You burst or it burst” in which he placed balloons down a staircase, in wait of an unsuspecting public.  He explains how some of those initial installations were about the idea of “self-destruction” and even commented on the inherent corruption and injustice that one often sees in India.

So perhaps Pratik is equally compelled by the worst and the best aspects of humanity?

Regardless of its direction, his message is certainly one of inclusion.  He often uses popular Bollywood music as a soundtrack to his videos in order to increase their appeal.  He once used a couplet from the legendary mystic Kabir’s poetry in an interactive work involving tea saying, “The idea of Kabir attracted people just like the sugar attracted the ants.”  Pratik often calls his works observatories, or ‘gathering spaces’, making sure he installs them at public monuments, inside parks or outside places of worship.

“If it is public art then it has to be for everyone!” he insists.

This is how he believes figures such as Mahatma Gandhi and Kabir effectively spread their ideas of peace, non-violence and forgiveness, widely.  And that is perhaps why his latest work for the Khoj residency is named after one of the most common yet profound words we have – ‘FORGIVE’.  I for one am intrigued to see what it will inspire us to do.

The Whole Package

Spending a Wednesday afternoon punctuated by chai, samosas and cigarettes at the Khoj studios, a privileged group of us sat listening to three dedicated artists and one artists' collective talk about their bodies of work.

Privileged – because anyone who has the opportunity to gain such a valuable insight into an artist’s thinking and development over time has to be so, and dedicated – because artists working on the fringes of art and science, I believe, often have to work harder to validate themselves in both fields. (As one artist aptly said that afternoon, “Making art like this is what keeps me selling furniture as a day-job!”)

And so we come back, once again, to the question of validation.  What validates these artists’ works as fine art rather than ecological research, political activism, performing arts or simply scientific experimentation?

In 2011 the criteria for judging art seems to be hazier than ever before; suffice it to say we live a time where art can simply be ‘classified’ as pluralistic - which leaves the contemporary critic with variegated ways of comprehending, evaluating and of course, translating the art they view.

What struck me at Khoj that afternoon was my personal response to each artist's body of work.  (Postmodernism may have killed the author and given birth to the subject, but I still believe that only by seeing an artist’s inner workings, their previous concepts and structures, can one fully appreciate their current practice – I believe it’s all about context.)  Back to what’s important – the artists:  I was fascinated by Brandon Balengee’s depth of research and presented aesthetic; I was heartened by Pratik Sagar’s intersection of spiritual exploration and performance-based works; I was intrigued by Navin Thomas’s juxtaposition of industrial found-objects with sound-wave monitoring but lastly, I was extremely moved by the profundity of Heather Ackroyd and Dan Harvey’s large-scale, socio-ecological works.

The impression left on me by this afternoon also made me think of a session we had had back in Dubai at a Bidoun writing workshop (Jan-May 2010).  We discussed many aspects of writing about art in these workshops, but the one in question was about the ‘baggage’ a critic or a writer brings with them when critiquing an exhibition or an artwork; basically their personal bias, whether this be emotional, political or cultural etc.  A certain extent of this personal bias may be inevitable and we came to the conclusion that if it did exist, it should at least be acknowledged.

So, when dealing with a socially/politically/culturally engaging work, is it audience response (in a way, the effectiveness of the works translation) that determines its efficacy? Or should it ultimately be the aesthetic that qualifies the piece as a work of art? Is it in fact its experimental and unclassifiable nature that draws a viewer in and defines it as so abstract as to put it in the frame of being cutting-edge? Or is this area of work just so telling of the zeitgeist, that we are simply placated by the fact that more artists are engaging with environmental issues?

I wonder, what makes this type of art, art? Or even ‘good’ art?

For me, it is the whole package – the pure dedication to this field, the creation of a body ‘alternative research;’ the experimental nature of it, including all the failed experiments; the effect on the local and wider community, the communicative quality of the work; and of course the overall presentation of these very complex ideas into a wondrously formed, visually-engaging aesthetic.

Translators

Critical theorists tells us that interstitial zones between disciplines offer new sites of knowledge production - which is why institutions such as Khoj find themselves exploring interdisciplinary spaces such as art and fashion, art and architecture and art and design. 

But art and science, really? How do these seemingly dichotomous worlds come together? And specifically in the case of ecology, how do you classify one thing as science and another as ecological art?

And so we begin this Khoj residency on art + ecology + science, as with any great investigative process, with questions (new terrian that we hope to traverse) and quotes! (learned concepts that will help us build upon their profundities)

Stacy Levy tells us "We tend to think of nature as something separate and other.  So often we place nature at the opposite end of the spectrum from culture.  Culture is us, nature is other."  Such a view is consistent with Greenbergian philosophy, where a definitve line was drawn between aesthetics and ethics (art and spiritual/social/environmental concerns) - but decades (and several art movements) later, haven't we moved on from such rigid thinking? 

The curators of initiatives such as "Ecovention" (2002) would certainly hope so.  In their eponymous book, Amy Lipton and Sue Spaid set about documenting and defining some of the most prominent land artists of our time.  They talk about the value of ecological intervention or "ecovention" as a contemporary art
tactic and then proceed (in quite a scientfic manner!) to classify the various types of land art = any art that involves nature/activates the land.

So, roughly speaking,
"earthworks" constitute permanent, large-scale, non-natural works (Robert Smithson's "Spiral Jetty" has to be the most famous example of this)
"environmental art" seems to be art that employ nature as a medium in an endeavour to enhance the viewer's awareness of nature and its phenomena and
"ecological art" seems to be more about sustainability, adaptability and biodiversity and is not necessarily transformative.

Although references are always useful when trying to comprehend the unkown, I have a feeling I won't necessarily be using these terms when attempting to critically engage with the artists involved in this residency.  Perhaps that's the nature of understanding the ever-changing world around us, we constantly need new language!

And I guess that is how I see doctors, scientists, artists and writers primarily - we share common ground as translators of the environment around us.  Whether it be our microcosms or macrocosms - the body, ecological systems or the universe - we heal, decode, research, TRANSLATE.

So lastly, to end this initial blog entry, I will leave you with a thought from the book Artful Ecologies (2006) "If Science is a translator of nature's ways then art's real power is to give new ways of telling the story of nature."

In Context:public.art.ecology- II Art+Ecology+Science

01 Mar 2011 - 08 Apr

Opening Remarks:

The In Context:public.art.ecology residency in its second phase will investigate and explore sites of science pursued through its diverse projects ranging from creating living ecosystems for insects, an organic grass photosynthesis photograph, an interactive bird habitat, an insect attracting eco- habitat; all within the broader framework of ecology and science rooted in todays’s cultural and philosophical context.