Quiet days in Kochi

Alice Delices is a rare place. Besides freshly baked bread, here you find people actually talking to each other, looking at books and photographs, debating the identity of artists on the wall posters next to that of Picasso and kids rolling the good old dice. We sat on the backless benches fashioned from wood, facing each other, croissants and black coffee in front of us.

Kids not attached to devices – a rare Alice

James, who is running the French bakery in Alice’s absence, is hotfooting about taking orders and serving the capacity guests. He has a permanent beatific smile which comes handy when he tells you the carrot cake is sold out, we can have the lemon drizzle instead – right after informing you that the regular bread is over, how about trying the new special bread? This is slightly more expensive and contains a lot of nuts – it is more a soft biscotti than just a nutty loaf. But, as it turns out, it is a good addition and I am hooked. Then I am partial to bread in any form. ‘This man can live on bread alone,’ as I self-deprecate badly. Or like I once told Alice that if I were a cat I would spend my day all curled up around the big oven in the courtyard of her bakery cum residence.

Eye-popping

All the guests at Alice’s were biennale-bound, like us. Then we had more than art to catch up with – each other. This was our first meeting after our longest separation following a noxious spat: my coprolalia, her conniption. We fought over which came first.

Holding it together / no more outlandish

I have never missed the Biennale, not that there were many to miss. The first edition – India’s first too – was in 2012; the current one underway is the fourth. But I remember the excitement having all the works within such a spatially convenient grasp. All the venues are within walking distance in Fort Kochi and next door Mattancherry, only the grand Durbar Hall is in Kochi town around 8 km away. In Delhi where I work the galleries are spread across vaster distances and the art at the bigger ones like the National Gallery of Modern Art is largely fixed. And here was one right in my backyard. One, if my well-travelled, seriously-talented, observant artist friends are to be believed, which is poised to be the best in the world.

‘Here, art appears so accessible unlike in other art fairs which are in-your-face commercial,’ one told me. ‘That red dot which rubs into you how incapable and unworthy you are is thankfully missing here.’

What rendered my artist buddies delirious was the Biennale’s vision to be a space to create conceptual work unrestrained by market constraints. It was anybody’s guess that this would be big despite the ambitious Muziris connection. Art, it seemed, was finally coming out of its traditional adherence to being objects of extreme gratification or mere contemplation. And in a politically and socially charged atmosphere like Kerala, it was bound to provoke and shift the gravity to include the traditionally ‘art illiterate’ masses. Like me.

Clear head: courtesy good art

Appreciation of art is subjective and interpretation conjecture which leaves no room for incoherence. Every edition since the start conformed to a curatorial theme; this year’s being non-alienation in a, by contrast, hyper-connected world. What we have as a result is a superlative body of works selected from across the world creating a rich space where ‘we can enjoy our beauty and intelligence with others’ as the curatorial note reads. We are endowed with many sought-after moments of escapism and much-needed introspection in this edition curated by Anita Dube. Works span from the tedious to the thoughtful, spectacular to embracing, jocular to sombre. A personal takeaway was a newfound intellectual and aesthetic affinity for installations. Art for me was largely limited to the canvas of which the Biennale provides a phantasmagoria of relatable stimulations like Vanessa Baird’s dark take on the fairytale images from our growing up years which captures the violence and predatory nature innate in us. But ‘Performance’ changed my view on installations forever. This mixed-media installation by Shubha Taparia seeks to return life and glory to three figures which lost their symbolic value and were discarded or forgotten by their owners. Probably having come across hordes of priceless historic statues that are today derelict by apathy and sheer callousness while working on my travel books, ‘Performance’ resonated with me immensely.

There was hope.

This is the first time a woman is curating the Biennale. And it is not without its manifest outcomes – at least half the artists are women. It is also about mainstreaming the marginalised artist – besides women, there are Dalits, queer and tribal artists. Also Guerrilla Girls, the anonymous group of female artists from the US, can be seen lashing out at white male hegemony in the art world across venues through striking art works.

The healing

For an artist bad situations are just as fertile as good ones, sometimes even more so. Henry Miller, ‘Quiet Days in Clichy’

Mr Serotonin coming

It is called ‘serotonin’ or ‘happy chemical.’ True to the name, the chemical has mood-boosting properties which help those suffering from mental health issues. It is also salutary for those undergoing palliative care for life-threatening diseases like cancer. Looking at art has shown to increase levels of serotonin in the human body so much so that doctors in some countries have begun prescribing gallery visits to patients. This was new to me though I knew that creating art was therapeutic: Art Therapy was used all over the world by people to deal with emotional conflicts, coping with sicknesses or to simply reduce stress. Why maybe Salman Khan painted, why my partner painted.

“For an impressionist like me, painting is translation of emotions,” she said. “I am as blank as the canvas when I begin and by the time I am done, I am exhausted to the bone.” Because it took up a pretty load of energy, she found it therapeutic. Like running or working out for me. It calmed her.

Besides our issues we discussed art – it was inevitable, we were surrounded by it.

She attributed my attempts at reconciliation to her fine callipygian feature; I looked at her like it was the afreet giving her such thoughts.

We laughed and created our own art at Song Dong’s Water Temple.

Amrita goes under the hammer

Responsible art

ARK, Art Rises for Kerala, brings together international and Indian art communities to the aid of those affected by floods that ravaged Kerala recently. All the proceeds will be donated to the Chief Minister’s Distress Relief Fund which will be used to rebuild the lost and damaged infrastructure in the state. Works from renowned artists, including a personal favourite Amrita Sher-Gil, will go under the hammer on January 18, 2019. Click here for details including the online auction. 

The Kochi Biennale started on March 12, 2018 and will be on till March 29, 2019.