Categories
Essay

Still to Moving Images

As a curator, Ratnottama Sengupta writes about the long trajectory of films by artists, beginning with Husain’s Berlinale winner, down to the intrepid band she screened at the just concluded 30th Kolkata International Film Festival

When Maqbool Fida Husain won the Golden Bear in the 17th edition of the Berlin Film Festival, the year was 1967. I, in my pre-teen years, knew little about painting. But growing up in a family of filmmakers I was already conversant with the art of looking through the camera. So I was disoriented that the film critics of the time were baffled by what had impressed the international jury.

Royalty, tigers, ruins, hawks, school children, anklets, on the river bank – all these images moving only to music, not a word uttered. The jury at Berlinale were astounded by the richness of the artist’s idiom that had breathed life into a Rajasthan that is rich in architecture as it is in painting, in costume as in music. 

This dawned on me years later, when I curated the exhibition, 3 Dimensions, forthe All India Fine Arts and Crafts Society in New Delhi. It featured paintings, sculpture and graphic art or drawings by artists from Husain, Satish Gujral, Ghulam Mohammad Sheikh, Jatin Das to Sanjay Bhattacharya, Paresh Maity, Mimi Radhakrishnan, Shadab Hussain, among others. 

A unique feature of this exhibition was that all the participating artists had interest in another expression of art. So every evening of that week had seen a Ram Kumar and Mimi read their short stories; a Narendra Pal Singh and Jatin Das read their poems; a Sanjay Bhattacharya render Tagore songs of and a Shruti Gupta Chandra perform Kathak. Ratnabali Kant had staged a Performance Art in the presence of Prime Minister V P Singh who had inaugurated the week-long exhibition by reading his poems. And, on the closing day, I had screened Through a Painter’s EyesThat’s when it dawned on me: it was the originality of vision captured by the 7-minute short film had won over Berlin as also Melbourne and our very own National Awards too. 

Subsequently Husain, who had started out from the tenements of Bombay by painting oversized hoardings of Hindi films on the sleeping tramlines at the dead of night, had at the ripe age of 84 made Gaja Gamini (2000) with stars such as Madhuri Dixit, and Minaxi — A Tale of Three Cities (2004) with Tabu and Naseeruddin Shah. Ironically these films baffled the critics just as much as the earlier short film had. However the dazzling visuals of vibrant figures and colourful structuring of the (non)-narrative had found acceptance in the Marche du Film section of Cannes 2004.

*

I have since then tried to fathom what drives artists who are skilled at painting with oil or watercolour, or sculpting wood or stone, metal or clay, or creating graphic images on paper or linoleum, to wield the megaphone. Now, instead of holding the camera or editing the celluloid strips with their hands, they use their mind, their mind’s eyes, their creative imagination.

Some other contemporaries of Husain too had, after attaining glory in the plastic arts, turned to experimenting with the new, ever evolving, ever contemporary art form — cinema. In 1970, Tyeb Mehta, who had briefly worked as an editor, made Koodal, meaning  ‘Meeting Ground’ on the Bandra station of Mumbai’s Western Railway. The synthesis of images of humans and animals had won him the Filmfare Critics Award.

Cartoonist Abu — born Attupurathu Mathew Abraham — was a journalist and author who had worked for Punch, Tribune and The Observer in London before returning to work with The Indian Express. He was given a special award by the British Film Institute for the short animation No Ark, clearly a cryptic message deriving from the Biblical tale of Noah’s Ark.

Equally engrossing is the story of Syzygy, also produced by Films Division, and directed by Akbar Padamsee.  This  16-minute short, premiered at a UNESCO screening in Paris 1969, had no narrative, no sound, or even colour. It only had lines evoking shapes typically used to refer to the alignment of celestial bodies. Only one man had stayed back till the end of the screening — and he had said to Padamsee, “Most people could not understand your film — it’s a masterpiece.” 

Reportedly that man had gone on to become the programming director at Cinematheque Francaise – world’s largest film archive. That’s where Indian filmmaker found Ashim Ahluwalia found a copy of Events in a Cloud Chamber, Padamsee’s second film that was sent for screening at the Delhi Art Expo — never to be returned to the artist. The lost-in-transit film has now been professionally reinterpreted by Ahluwalia.

NB: All these films were supported by filmmaking bodies, and though often baffled, cineastes realised theirs was a new way of seeing the visual expression that goes under the arching umbrella of cinema.

*

This desire to understand, adapt, and get under the skin of a modern medium had driven Tagore, a century ago from today, to paint expressionistic forms and also to film Natir Pujo (1931). And today we find a band of artists from Delhi, Mumbai, Kerala and Baroda making films that bridge disciplines from landscape and abstraction to mimetic movement and drama.

What are the notable features of these films that are mostly made on video? They too have little need for dialogue. Instead, their sight is supported by music of natural sound. If the objects they capture through the lens are arresting forms, vacant spaces can be just as inviting. When they have humans as their protagonists, they are keen to capture body language rather than drama. Colourful palette is not a foregone conclusion – monochromes and black and white can be more poignant. Because? Their visuals are but vehicles for commenting on social reality and for communicating philosophic content. 

Legends or veterans, seasoned or sprouting, this intrepid band of adventurers includes Vivan Sundaram, Ranbir Kaleka, Gopi Gajwani, Rameshwar Broota, Bharti Kapadia, Babu Eshwar Prasad, Gigi Scaria, Protul Dash, and Sanjay Roy. They are a continuum of the spirit of experimentation that had driven Husain and Tyeb, Abu Abraham and Akbar Padamsee.

Films by Artists at KIFF*

1 *Disclaimer* 2016/ 9:40 min
By *Gigi Scaria* focuses on the sleight of hands by a magician
2 *On the Road* 2021/ 5:7 min
By *Babu Eshwar Prasad* is a nostalgic look at road movies that are part documentary, part adventure.
3 *Sabash Beta* 3 min
By *Rameshwar Broota* with Vasundhara Tewari applauds the galloping of a fleighty horse.
4 *Leaves Like Hands of Flame* 2010/ 5:34 min
By *Veer Munshi* likens the fallen chinar leaves to the autumn in the lives of uprooted Kashmiris.
5 *L for…* 2019/ 13:14 min
By *Bharti Kapadia* plays with the sight and - surprisingly - the sound of the alphabet.
6 *Fruits Ripen and Rot* 2022/ 4:21 min
By *Sanjay Roy* is a surrealistic look at the divergent responses to food that is central to everyman's existence.
7 *How Far…?* 2023/ 12:37 min
By *Ranveer Kaleka* is an elegy, a dirge, mourning the losses wrought to Planet Earth by human destruction such as war.
8 *Burning Angel* 2024/ 4:37 min
By *Pratul Dash* is an abstract story of the same destruction.
9 *Turning 2008/ 11 min
By Vivan Sundaram is a silent, colourful comment on the waste created by consumerist civilization.
10 *Time* 1974/13 min
By *Gopi Gajwani* is a riveting tale of how relative a minute is to one in mourning, one waiting, and for one in love.


*Kolkata International Film Festival

.

Ratnottama Sengupta, formerly Arts Editor of  The Times of India, teaches mass communication and film appreciation, curates film festivals and art exhibitions, and translates and write books. She has been a member of CBFC, served on the National Film Awards jury and has herself won a National Award. 

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Musings of a Copywriter

Red Carpet Welcome

By Devraj Singh Kalsi

Even if it has nothing to do with Cannes or any other star-studded celebrity jamboree or political protocol, walking the red carpet is a dream come true for those attending marriage receptions. The red carpet is laid out right from the entrance gate to the podium where the newlywed couple remain ensconced in plush royal chairs to receive guests trudging with gifts and bouquets. The kick one gets when one walks on it is indescribable, as real-life experiences of such episodes remain fresh and permanently etched on my memory. It is the closest to what ordinary mortals can ever experience of celebrity status.

Have you ever wondered about the source of confidence in those who are sure of getting a red-carpet welcome in life? Perhaps it is faith in destiny or God or contacts or their talent. But for those who have none of the above factors skewed in their favour, it is the art of making the commonplace look uncommon and turning the massy into something of a bit classy that makes them celebrate ordinariness through elevation and derive pleasure in some measure to satiate their hunger of being dubbed as important folks that have walked on this planet. Even if there are no worthy guests on the list, the red carpet makes them all special in a democratic fashion. 

Ever since the realisation dawned that the surest way to downgrade the value of the red carpet is to make it so obvious or ubiquitous that there is no iota of status attached to those walking on it wearing anything from sandals to stilettos, I have contributed my fair bit by walking on the carpet wearing flip-flops and shorts. That was considered nothing less than a sacrilege.

Although a little hesitant about socialising, the idea of walking the red carpet without the tuxedo has never set my mind ablaze like a forest fire. I am more than cool to walk the red carpet wearing a sherwani[1] from the local tailoring unit or a pair of straight jeans from the retailer next door. I have relished the sight of those wearing dhotis[2] and walking the red carpet with a sense of pride over our remarkable strength to localise it. The white chappals with socks raised high to cover the varicose veins make it camera worthy. Visitors who do not feel intimidated by the veneer of superiority of the red carpet are the truly evolved ones who have successfully turned the special welcome into something quite mundane.

Women decked up in salwar kameez and posing for cameras to click their grand entry is a delectable sight. When their expectations are razed to the ground as the cameras show scant interest in the red carpet and focus more on those gorging on delicacies and gobbling up like gluttons, their family members freeze the moment of reckoning as well as their glam look while strutting the red carpet for social media posts only to be pushed aside by another jostling, impatient couple usurping the space for shutterbugs to randomly click them for their profile feeds before their makeup begins to melt under the harsh glare. With all the guests having staged their presence on the red carpet, there is a sense of contentment that they have finally done what their idol celebrities do with panache.    

The burgeoning middle class, thanks to marriage halls, has used the red carpet as a mandatory sign of affluence to pose as arriviste, making it a democratic exercise like the right to vote for all those who often feel they are going to miss the red carpet welcome in life due to their non-achiever status. Though the aspirational value of the red carpet welcome has, perhaps, waned a bit in recent times.

While the majority celebrates the red carpet becoming a reality for all, there are some who still detest at the idea of loss of exclusivity. Many families spread a red carpet in their homes and give an enthusing welcome to their guests every day. Even though they have done nothing to deserve it, they are happy with the fulfilment of luxury in a smart affordable manner. The trend of using the red carpet to flaunt status and deliver status to other people has become an everyday practice.

Imagine an entire family walking the red carpet with hands on the waist, posing for cameras even if the pictures do not appear in tabloids. Their social media handles garner likes, and the sharing of images makes them feel like a celebrity in their limited circle. Even after attending several such events and walking the red carpet multiple times, taming of desire remains a challenge. While it is easier to be rich and more difficult to earn fame, celebrity status redefines itself to widen the circle of pseudo-celebrities getting high after walking the red carpet as an antidote to assuage their bloated sentiments of undiminished narcissism.

.

[1] Long coat worn for formal occasions in South Asia

[2] A garment worn in lieu of trousers

.

Devraj Singh Kalsi works as a senior copywriter in Kolkata. His short stories and essays have been published in Deccan Herald, Tehelka, Kitaab, Earthen Lamp Journal, Assam Tribune, and The Statesman. Pal Motors is his first novel.  


PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International