Some Colonial Buildings in Sri Lanka (Colombo, Kandy, Nuwara Eliya)

Digital Art by Samanta Batra Mehta

Some of Samanta Batra's recent work is on display at Gallery BMB's new show, A Place Of Their Own: An exhibition of South Asian-American Diaspora Artists. Born in New Delhi, her undergraduate years were spent studying economics and information systems. She worked in the finance and international shipping industries before beginning a full-time art career. She currently lives in New York. I was instantly taken by her series of four digital photographs: The Last of the Uncolonized Lands. The dark physical beauty and psychadelic dream-like atmosphere of these images, work quickly on the eye and mind. In the background of each of the images is a dark forest of morphed leafless trees. I have seem similar computer manipulations of objects, so it's not a unique idea. However, the structured yet confused images of the trees suggest a sad and tortured mind or internal state. This is a great setting for the figures of women draped in white translucent satin-like cloth, in various dramatic poses, some on beds and others floating in space. They seem to be in various states of emotional pain or sexual longing. They are passive women, either experiencing the aftermath of events, or waiting for something to happen to them. She writes on her website, "I am interested in mapping connections between the human condition and the environment we inhabit. Using the body and abstracted organic forms as metaphor for land/earth/people, my work investigates themes in gender constructs, socio-cultural order and colonization." Her works at the exhibition clearly fit this mould. Though not groundbreaking in theme, treatment, or technique, Mehta's photographs have a beauty and power that will attract most viewers.

Three Men and a Hike

On a recent trip to Germany, my brother, Salil and close friend, Vinay, drove two hours north of Frankfurt to a small town called Glashutte. The hotel we stayed at, The Jagdorf, was a paragon of hospitality. One of the stewards, an Austrian, who served us during a luxurious three-course meal, had helped set up an Italian restaurant at the Four Seasons in Mumbai. The unexpected Mumbai connection ensured that we were treated extraordinarily well.

Though constructed in the 1980s, the Jagdorf had a warm, traditional German charm. The use of light colored wood for the staircases and furniture, created a comfortable homely feel. Reindeer motifs were all around: statues at the entrance and in the lobby, and antlers on the walls of the staircases. I saw a photograph of the hotel in winter, draped with Christmas lights in the snow; it looked like the perfect setting for a Disney movie. Our rooms consisted of two floors: the living room and the bed room upstairs. As I walked up the staircase to the beds, I remembered my childhood bunk-bed.
We arrived at the hotel on a Friday evening. The next day we went for a wonderful hike through the forests around the hotel. Vinay, who is very good at reading maps (even if they are in German), ensured that we didn't for once get lost, during our 10 kilometer adventure. Though overcast, it was the perfect weather for a hike. The occasional light rain, and the fog, were welcome companions.

A Strange Garden

On a recent holiday to Prague, I visited The Wallenstein Palace (1624-30), which is now the Czech senate. It is located south of Prague castle, and was built by Albercht von Wallenstein (1581-1634), a powerful and celebrated Catholic general. He fought vigorously to quell Protestant uprisings during the reign of Emperor Ferdinand II. However, as success and power got the better of him, he aspired to become King of Bohemia, and plotted against the emperor. Sounds a little like Macbeth. He was murdered for his disloyalty.

A day before my visit to the palace, I had seen a mysterious patch of grey from the Prague castle and wondered what it was. I unconvincingly dismissed it as an odd-looking garden with grey plants and coniferous trees. Now, as I stood before the massive grey walls in the Wallenstein garden, it all made sense.

The wall was probably viewed as symbol of Wallenstein’s over-ambition, especially after the news that the general was plotting against the king, reached the king’s ears. I can imagine the king looking out of his palace window at the grey patch, which even today sticks out like a sore thumb in the otherwise beautiful urban landscape below, wishing quick riddance of his once-loyal general.

The grey wall is ugly, and under a grey overcast sky, looked even uglier. Its scale and contorted forms, which resemble stalactites, are overwhelming. Notice the live pigeons camouflaged by the grey stone. There are animals and demonic faces lurking in the stones. A snake slithers along one side. There are subtly hidden entrances to possible tunnels or caves hidden within the imaginary womb of the wall.

The wall has the powerful effect of taking one into a world of mystery and the imagination, far removed from the politically and religiously tempestuous times during which it was created. A sort of an baroque Disney land for royal Praguers.

However, I’m sure the current state of the wall is far removed from its orginal one. There were probably a wider variety of plants crawling up its surface. The extreme right of the wall forms the backdrop for an aviary. I saw three or four large owls hopping along long iron bars. A sad sight. Wallenstein probably had a range of exotic caged birds in his time. Besides the wall, nothing else in the garden or the external design and structure of the grand baroque palace suggest that Wallenstein had an interest in the macabre.

Give Jehangir Art Gallery a chance

If you are a Bombayite, you will recall the time when you would visit Jehangir Art Gallery on Sundays, and complain about how puerile the art on display was. In the last few years, the art scene has changed significantly; one has a range of galleries in Colaba and Fort exhibiting young upcoming artists and established "masters," to choose from. But today, I did drop by Jehangir, and felt surprisingly refreshed.

For one thing it's great to have a gallery open on Sundays; all the trendy new ones in SoBo are closed (except for a couple). Most of us can't visit galleries during working hours. So that leaves the late evening art-openings, which no doubt are fun, with all the wine flowing, and Camy "jali wafers" being served in plates. But it's nice not to have to use your head too much, and not to have to read the explanation on the gallery wall (which often only succeeds in enhancing your confusion) as you enter, to better understand the exhibit.

It's comforting to have a relaxed stroll through the two halls, one hot and humid and the other air-conditioned. It's a capitalist world after all, and the have's and have-nots are part of art world too. The crowd wasn't snooty, and seemed to appreciate art that offended me.

The highlight of my visit was a series of paintings of trains; a very mundane subject that impressed me for being everything but ostentatious and intellectual. It's great when you don't need a reason to like art.

The Reluctant Fundamentalist

It's a pity I took so long to get to this book. It was published in 2007. A copy would weakly beckon me from my brother's bookshelf whenever I visited him, but I didn't pay any heed. This past Sunday, I was looking for something desperately to read and chanced on a copy in my home bookshelf. This time I picked it up and was immediately riveted to it.

If you haven't read it, get to the closest bookstore and read it today! There's probably so much written about this book already, that I don't have anything original to say. But take my advice.

Books on Photography

I skimmed through these three books on photography and recommend them to anyone one who wants to get a big picture look at the history of photography and contemporary directions in photography.They are: Icons of Photography: The 20th Century (Prestel), Photo:Box by Roberto Koch (Abrams)and The Digital Eye...Photographic art in the Electronic Age by Sylvia Wolf (Prestel). It's great going back to them from time to time to refer to a particular photographer or image. Each time I look at them, it's like I'm leafing through the book for the first time. However, that's probably more a reflection of my memory!