Inexplicable

I have to say that I am not a fan of photographs that are staged and are designed in a particular way to express an emotion or an idea. That school of photography carries a sense of artificiality to an otherwise ‘freeze frame’ approach that led me to this art form in the beginning. Not having total control over what comes into the frame, instead relying on your instincts and emotions and hoping that they will somehow be communicated. That’s why it was difficult to find a personal connection with Viviane’s photos, so I chose the ones that were not staged or at least I hope they are not. 

The photograph on the left represents chaos to me. The photograph on the right represents belonging. But both have a common underlying factor – the passage of time, Nostalgia. 

Growing up in India and spending every summer vacation in the rural areas of West Bengal at my grandmother’s house, I had a particular emotion and feeling associated with certain trees that were abundant in the area. The Banana plant is one of them. Its distinct light green colour and the way the leaves swayed in the wind always made me think of the numerous fights that my extended family had at every family function. There is a reason it reminds me of the various family functions that we had over the years, and it is because of its many functions and facilities that come up during these events. First of all, the leaves make excellent organic plates, on which we eat rice and other dishes, secondly, when the leaves dry up, they can be used as very strong and sturdy ropes. When a banana tree stops producing bananas, it is cut down and the bark of the tree, which is an excellent buoyant floater, is used by children to learn swimming. Inside the bark, there is a long cylindrical structure that can be cooked and eaten and is very delicious. And then of course there are the bananas and their flowers. I have a distinct memory for every function of the banana plant and the people who carry it out. When I saw the photograph for the first time, the thing that stuck in my mind was the dried leaves that were prominent in the frame. Banana leaves dry up very fast and when they do so two things happen, first the plant seems smaller and somehow less structurally balanced and second, new leaves sprout out the top. It immediately reminded me of the passage of time, the elder members of my family and the recent death of my great-grandfather and great-grandmother. 

Red soil has a certain quality to it. It is very powdery and on windy days – you can sense it in the air. I remember at my grandmother’s house, the shrubs and trees that were on either side of the roads were covered in red soil just like in the photograph. It is a sign that this road has been used a lot, by many people, for a long time. It gave me a sense of comfort and belonging. On the other hand, whenever I used to go on an evening cycling trip to discover new areas, I always looked for greener trees to try and find paths that very few people use. The area is prone to storms and when rain hits hard, all the dirt is washed off from the leaves. The next morning people would again go on living their lives, covering up those green trees.