KHOJ Bihar 2009

KHOJ Steps on the Soil of Bihar

Rajesh K Singh

‘KHOJ ’ (quest) is a quest. Every time. Every year. A quest that has transformed the art map of the last decade. No doubt, the constituents, dimensions, fuelling force, and factors of the changed map are diverse. However, amid all the diversities and differences, there is an intervention of KHOJ somewhere or the other. KHOJ , indeed, is an intervention.

Art was divided into various divisions, hierarchies, and types. Someone was just a painter, someone just a sculptor, someone a singer, player of instrument, dancer, performer, or poet. Somewhere, the connection and mutual inter-relationship of these distinct disciplines was lost. So much so that someone was a specialist only of stone in the art of sculpture, someone only of wood, someone of metal or of fibre, someone of oil colour or water colour, and someone of short stories or video. Somewhere, art was as if shackled within narrow limits. Norms and conventions were made dictating what art is and what is not, and if this or that ingredient is not found then it is not art; art is what is displayed in art galleries and awarded in art competitions and national exhibitions. The parameter of greatness rested largely on the work’s reception in art market. Art gallery was the sole forum.In other countries, art had already moved beyond the white cube. And the limits of narrowness were already destroyed in the decades of sixties or seventies. In India, the years around 1990 have proved decisive. Through these years came the first wave of change—the change that we are talking about. During these years were created the first examples of video art, installation art, and performance art. A systematic account of these developments would be desirable but it is not the space to go into that. It is important, however, to note that India’s economic reformation were launched during these years due to which India’s economy, national produce, revenue and expenditure, employment, and the relative standard of life entered a new phase. Revolution in communication systems, privatization of media, India’s role in globalization, spread of computers and internet, etc. are some such areas which came forth displaying the various dimensions of the change. The change in art is but a small constituent of the change at large.

In this backdrop emerged KHOJ in late nineties of the last century. It would be untrue that no ‘alternative art’ existed in India before KHOJ . The importance of KHOJ lays in the fact that it recognized the pulse of the times; there was a wave of fresh breeze in the air, a fragrance that was hardly felt before. Some artists, therefore, gathered and they blew the whistle of the revolution. Like a jungle fire, the new wave started spreading everywhere. KHOJ became an annual forum, there was a quest started to search for various alternatives. New artists joined every year, the group started growing, and the caravan kept moving.

An account of the journey of KHOJ would be a long tale; there would be many chapters. It is not possible to numerate all the artists here, not even the list of programmes and projects held, the venues, and how the resources were met, what ups and downs came on the way. Such information is available in the publications and website of KHOJ .

What is, however, important is to bring on record that the dynamics of contemporary Indian art cannot be correctly understood or explained without the phenomenon of KHOJ . So far, KHOJ has inspired hundreds of artists to come together on a platform and share ideas and thoughts toward exploring new alternatives to the decadent and standardized practices. True, several careers have been made through KHOJ .Recently, KHOJ has gone beyond the borders of India. It has a presence on the international level. In neighbouring countries, parallel forums have been created under the banner of KHOJ . Its arena has grown vast. In various states of India, KHOJ has played an important role. In some states, KHOJ site-specific art camps and residency programmes are held regularly.

The arrival of KHOJ in Bihar is an unprecedented event. The event, I am sure, will be mentioned in the pages of history. And it is not only due to the fact that KHOJ leaves an indelible mark where it goes, but also because Bihar has always been a neglected state.

The neglect of Bihar is from all directions—some from within, others from without. Once, it was a prosperous province of India. The history of India will be grossly incomplete without Bihar. This is the birthplace of the Buddha and Mahavira. The first empire of India—the Magadh Empire—had the capital here in Patliputra (modern Patna). The first Emperor, Asoka, the frontiers of whose Empire encompassed most of India and extended up to the borders of Afghanistan ruled from Pataliputra. The first sailagriha (rock-cut architecture) was excavated in the granite hills of Barabar near Bodhgaya. The first university of the world was established here at Nalanda that flourished for more than a millennium before being razed to dust by Bakhtiyar Khilzi in the medieval period. The first President of India was from Bihar. The most revered pilgrimage of the Buddhists is here at Bodhagaya where the Buddha attained enlightenment. A revered pilgrimage of the Jains is here at Pavapuri where the great jina (Mahavira) laid his mortal body. Important pilgrimage centre of the Sikhs is at Patna Sahib where Guru Nanak Dev, the first guru was born. In the area of folk arts, Bihar’s Madhubani district holds an important position.Unfortunately, Bihar is going through an eclipse today. It is among the poorest states of India. It is among those states of India where crime, destitute, employment, illiteracy, and corruption are to the maximum. The mention of Bihar’s travails would be a tale in itself (See G. N. Das, The Republic of Bihar, Penguin India). The state has become further backward in the last decades. People are now moving outside. The number of Biharis has increased in Kolkata, Mumbai, Delhi, etc. Agriculture is still not modernized. Most of the natural resources have gone to Jharkhand, the state that was recently carved out from it. The Naxal movement is plaguing the state’s stability and people’s security. Law and order, and caste-basted divisions, are serious problems that is afflicting the progress of the state. Industries are scant.

Economic prosperity is the base of arts and culture. This theory of Marx is very apt in the context of Bihar. Due to economic backwardness, a kind of emptiness and void is casting dark shadows over the climate of contemporary scenario in the state for the last few decades.

The only major art school, College of Arts & Crafts of Patna University, is wailing on its sad and unfortunate condition. Even this college had a pride once. Binod Bihari Mukherjee was a principal here around 1950. The college also as an art collection that can make any art collector feel jealous. There are paintings of Patna Qalam of the nineteenth century, works of several Revivalists and post-Revivalists, etc. The rumour is that half the items of the collection are not to be found due to systematic neglect for decades. Many of the works have never been published. Hopefully, the present principal is going to take the steps to do the needful.

In such a condition, there is no wonder why Bihar has not been able to play an important role in the area of contemporary art. The name of Subodh Gupta comes in the form of an exception. He is born and brought up in Bihar, trained in the same neglected art college, and is now shining like a star in the global stage.

Some other names also come—Shambhavi Singh among them who is the host-artist of KHOJ Bihar (a discussion on her and other participants will be made separately). Among the former generation of artists the names of Shyam Sharma and Vireshwar Bhattacharya must be enumerated who have worked continuously to register the presence of Bihar in contemporary art scenario.

Artists of the new generation are many. Some of them are active in Baroda, Delhi, and Mumbai. A few of them have participated in KHOJ Bihar and will be discussed separately.

The participants of KHOJ Bihar have already surveyed the city, been to historical sites, and studying the climate, people, local conditions, and contexts. Some of them have started working, and in the days ahead we should expect something exciting from them as I anticipate from my interactions with them.

KHOJ BIHAR MEMOIRS-IIThe train to PatnaRajesh K. Singh

October 24, 2009; 4 PM. Near an ATM outside the railway station in New Delhi I sat under a tree waiting for other participants of KHOJ Bihar. We were to take New Delhi-Patna Rajdhani Express that links the capital of India with the capital of Bihar.

This is a journey that Khoj is taking for the first time. It is also the first time for me to trek the path with KHOJ as a resident critic. The excitement is mixed with anticipation of the unknown, for KHOJ does not require the participants to pre-submit their projects to elicit any details of what exactly they are going to make on the site. Since KHOJ is an instrument of setting new standards of art and creative practices in and around the subcontinent, one is sure to witness the process and creation of some of the milestone art-to-be.

For nine years I have waited for this moment to arrive, and I feel hugely lucky that it came my way, not so much because I happen to be practicing art history (for, I am a small-time guy), but more because I hail from the state where KHOJ is headed this year.The climate of this last week of November is so nice. It is breezing, and it’s neither hot nor cold. Naturally, I am thinking of all the good things. Our berths are reserved in different compartments of the train—a sad thing that could not be avoided.

Inside the train, Shailly Bhatnagar, the coordinator of KHOJ Bihar (whom I saw after 13 years!) rose to action to perform what I thought was undoable. Requesting sweetly and politely she managed to exchange our berths of other compartments with the passengers whose berths were in my cubical. Soon, I saw about four of the passengers shifting with their baggage to our berths in other compartments. Foreign participants were amused to see the flexibility that Indians display at times.

Anna Stangle (Austria), Janet Kcewan (London), Pradeep Thallwatta (Srilanka), Tintin Wulia (Indonesia) any myself are sitting in the same compartment now. The attendant comes and hands over a white cotton towel, two white sheets, and a blanket to each. “Wow!” exclaimed everyone. “This service is not there in Europe.”

Then came snacks and tea in pots. Everyone made tea for oneself and expressed admiration for the quality. Shortly thereafter came breakfast: sandwiches, butter, jam, samosa, and sweetmeat. Although they liked the taste they could not eat all. About 8 PM came soup. Most of them said, “O! We can’t have more!” I said, “Dinner is still to come.” They all gasped. The dinner delighted everyone, but most of them could not finish the plate. They were so impressed with the Indian railways, its quality, punctuality, and service. (I did not tell them all Indian trains are not like Rajdhani Express!)

In the morning at 6 A.M. next day, Shailly shouted, “Wake up everyone. Patna is coming.” Outside, I saw the train slowing down. Slight veil of fog had descended the landscape. Although the monsoon was so poor this year, only one colour could be found outside in the landscape: green. Huts, villages, and fields were presenting the picture of rural India.

Taregana (literally, counting the stars) station was nearby, and I remembered that only a few weeks back (July 22) live feeds from this modest and desolate railway station was beamed for two days in most news channels across the world when full solar eclipse had taken place, and the phenomenon was best viewed from Taregana. Thousands of scientists, media personnel, and star gazers from throughout the world had gathered there. The station falls between my native district Jehananad (the name was given by Jahan-ara, the wife of Aurangzeb when she visited there in seventeenth century) and Patna. Countless times I have passed through the station but I never knew that the name is true to its meaning; I waited to be told by the media that the ancient Indian astronomer, Aryabhatta (the inventor of zero and the knowledge that the earth is like a sphere and revolves around the sun), had his laboratory over here.

Besides Taregana there is another place that is equally modest and desolate, which also came to limelight during the same day of eclipse. This place is Khagaul (corruption from the Sanskrit word, khagol, meaning the universe). Interestingly, one of the founder members of KHOJ and a member of its governing council, Subodh Gupta, hails from Khagaul. Aryabhatta also had a laboratory over here. Our train passing through Taregana took me inadvertently down to the memory lanes of history, to the past that is conveniently forgotten along with India’s contribution to science, medicine, and mathematics, which has been relegated to the margins of contemporary knowledge. The journey of Khoj through such places, by train, and through such contexts of geography, histories, and knowledge systems is, therefore, no coincidence, but in line with the principles and motto that Khoj has set before itself.

At 6 A.M in the morning when the train reached Patna, there were people to receive us, among them Shambhavi Singh (Host-artist, KHOJ Bihar 2009), Amresh (KHOJ participant), Ananjay (owner of Ananya Art Gallery, Patna), etc.

The morning is not like other mornings. Millions of Biharis are on the road barefoot, carrying overhead bamboo baskets laden with puja and prasad items and heading in procession like a flood towards the banks of the Ganges and other water bodies. These people are going to observe the Chhatt festival. It is the most sacred, the most revered, and the most important festival of Bihar. Not everyone is able to perform the puja. Mostly women and men are able to participate. Children and many other people who do not find it possible to observe all the austere practices and rites involved abstain from the puja, and carry out other tasks like assisting the puja, sweeping and washing the pathways through which the devotees would pass through, setting up lights and water and tea arrangements on the way, etc., for it is believed that even such acts of assisting the devotees carry great religious merit.

Chhatt is a festival of sun-worship. Because the sun was a major god in the Vedic period, it seems that the festival is being observed since the vedic times (third-second millennium B.C.). Other major deities of the Vedic period were Indra, Varuna, Agni, Pasupati, etc whose worship or image or temple-making as the main god is rarely observed today. Puranic deities like Rama, Krishna, Hanuman, Ganesh, Durga, Parvati, Shiva, etc. began to be venerated and worshipped in a major way since the Puranic period (mid-second millennium B.C.) .

Thus, the Chhatt festival is a unique festival in its own way, and the participants of KHOJ Bihar 2009 are going to get the chance of a rendezvous with the festival and to witness a phenomenon that resides in the core of the culture of Bihar.

We got inside the vehicles that had come for us and headed straight to the banks of the Ganges. Piercing the crowd, we saw millions of devotees standing in the holy waters of the Ganges offering the morning argha (the propitious acts, rites, and puja of the sun performed in the evening and morning of Chhatt on the ghats). Even for me it was a unique experience, not to speak of the experience of the other KHOJ participants.

Thereafter, we went to Tarumitra Ashram (about 400 metres away, on Digha Ghat), an organization which is providing the boarding and lodging facility for KHOJ Bihar 2009. It provides a unique environment and context to the artists for creating site-specific works. About the Ahram an account would be presented in another memoir.

The site of Tarumitra Ashram

Rajesh K Singh

From Patna railway station when the vehicles sped toward the outskirts of Patna, beyond the zoo, which once used to be the end of the city, I found that the city has doubled its geographical expanse through the last decade—a phenomenon that is seen throughout India. One wonders in such a context what has kept Florence, for instance, from similarly expanding through the last six or seven centuries.

The chaos has increased. Two decades ago, when I used to live here, Patna had never looked so ugly. There is no space on the road. Encroachment is seen like an unchangeable rule in the city. Vehicles of all sorts—peddle rickshaws, cycles, motorized two-wheelers, cars, all pushing, as if, cajoling one another to make the way. Unplanned growth, unpicked garbage, unclean streets, beggars, and people from remote villages are the most common sight.

As human population in India is flooding the cities, the cities are reeling under the weight of its inhabitants. There is a choking feeling. It looks like everything would collapse soon. And this is the outlook when people say that things are improving here under the new government of the chief minister Nitish Kumar. The earlier chief minister, Laloo Prasad Yadav, had done everything to turn the state into a jungle raj.

In such a context, it would be a challenge to find the suitable site for holding an art camp like that of Khoj, for not only the practical concerns of congenial lodging, boarding, and security is to be ensured, but also the place, the site itself, ought to have those properties, values, climate, and surroundings that is inspiring, challenging, enticing, mind-teasing, and inviting. It does not have to be a Zen garden or a five-star hotel, for such places may defeat the purpose of a site-specific art camp where the concern of the artists are to address through their works the socio-political, cultural, environmental, historical, aesthetic issues and those of human rights, community participation, class/caste struggle, gender politics, violence, etc.

When the vehicles stopped, we saw on the left a long, almost measureless, unending narrow avenue of plants, small trees, and bushes—a pathway of clean soil and green grass below, and thick bushy walls of vegetation on its sides. It was like a long tunnel of vegetation. The sign before it read: Tarumitra (Taru means tree, mitra means friend, and ashram means place of work).

The inside of Tarumitra is nothing like the outside. It is a small ten-something acres of bio-reserve; thick forest with all sorts of trees, plants, flowers, lawns, and residential cottages that look rather like modified species of the huts in rural areas; these are structures that are rarely to be seen elsewhere.

Father Robert Athiekal greets us with a pleasant smile. He looks very ordinary who can easily be lost in a crowd, but soon we were to find that the man is built of different atoms; he has the Gandhian simplicity, and the mind of Shri Aurobindo or Sister Nivedita.

We get inside our cottages that are really like village huts. Simplicity is the way of life here. On a wall, we read a slogan:

Frugality is India’s traditionModernity sees frugality as poverty- Dedicated to the Native Wisdom of India’s Rural CommunitiesBreakfast was like what we eat at home—in terms of the menu and taste. Non-vegetarian food, smoking, and alcohol are discouraged here. We were told water from any tap in the premises of Tarumitra is good for drinking. There is a 200 metre deep bore well here that draws mineral water from the depths where the rain water does not reach.

At 12 noon, we have a presentation by the head of Tarumitra, Fr. Robert who introduces us to Fr. Joe Parekatil and Sister Prema Chowalur and Sr. Suma George. In his power point presentation he gives a brief survey of Tarumitra, its aims and objectives, vision and design, principles, and modus operandi.

There are no servants here. Everyone does his or her own work. The food is tasty and nourishing. The governor of Bihar had inaugurated the space some twelve years back when it was nothing but a paddy field. Now, there are about 200 varieties of trees and plants here; some of them are medicinal plants, herbs, and some are rare of whose whereabouts were not disclosed to us due to the bad experience Tarumitra faced before.

About ninety percent of the energy requirement is met by solar energy. There is an efficient and organic waste disposal system. No waste goes out of the campus. We are advised not to bring plastic inside or throw them here and there. There are some snakes too but the ones spotted are not poisonous.

Most of the plantation and building work is undertaken by community participation. Tarumitra has an efficient network with schools throughout India. Children come here and do the plantation and learn to be nature- and eco-friendly in the process. Tarumitra also undertakes plantation drives in the city and other parts of India. It brings out a newspaper too called the Tarumitra Times. Nature and ecology lovers regularly contribute to the newspapers including children.

Buildings are innovative here using local materials and styles. These are low-cost buildings. Between the bricks a gap was given to allow thermostat so that the interior of the walls are not heated in summer. Roof is laid of bamboo, available in plenty. On top of the bamboo structure, a thick layer of paper pulp was laid out for insulation. Finally clay tiles were laid on top. This innovation was especially programmed by Fr. Joe who has been experimenting with low-cost, environment and climate friendly architectural design and housing.

This year a Tarumitra child was selected by the United Nations for delivering the inaugural speech in the UN meet on environment, global warming, and ecology.

On two sides of Tarumitra are paddy fields. On the west is River Ganges, about 700 metres from here. There are small water bodies inside the campus; there is a lecture hall called the Chardin Hall named after Teilhard De Chardin (May 1, 1881—April 10, 1995) who was a Jesuit Priest trained as a palaeontologist and philosopher. There is also a meditation centre. Water lilies are also seen nearby in water bodies.

In nutshell, the site seems to be ideal for holding KHOJ Bihar 2009 and the participants have found plenty of ideas to execute their work. It is an experience that would be hard to forget.

Nous ne notons pas les fleurs:an étude in ephemeral cartography

- Nous ne notons pas les fleurs, dit le géographe.- Pourquoi ça! c'est pas joli!- Parce que les fleurs sont éphémères.Le Petit Prince (Antoine de Saint Exupéry, 1943)

In the recent years I have been working on the theme of geopolitics, in particular through reflections on place; on identity, individuality, citizenship and structures of political power; on movement across borders; as well as on maps and cartography. With these interests as a background, since the beginning of 2009 I have intentionally been focusing on interactivity in my work. Participating in the KHOJ Bihar International Artist Workshop 2009, these were the issues I was naturally attracted to.

It was through the filter of this current interest that my daily experiences and personal encounters during the workshop eventually started to take form into several ideas for a new work. My experience of daily bureaucracy in the purpose of surveillance considered essential to maintain security in this world’s most populous democracy was coupled with a frisson of being in an overpowering mass of tens of thousands people during the Sonepur Mela coinciding with a full moon festival down at the Ganga. My exterior imagining of India as one of the relatively monocultural nation-states with enduring age-old borders was instantly illustrated by the internal realities of the multicultural, multilingual India and all its borders in perpetual motion.

Even materials from the media – one of my sources during the workshop – also manifested in my first-hand encounters with local journalists approaching with a preconception to form a certain opinion. A simple, but hands-on, drive to the market put me in first-hand contact with the local traffic of Patna – a window to the inner working of its street ethics and strategies. My attempt to imitate the Chhau dancers literally put myself in another person’s mask of gestures and maneuvers alien to my mind yet somewhat familiar to my body. My shallow disposition to learning Hindi colloquialism co-existed with my reflection on the Manipur Indians and their seemingly exotic displacement. More than only reading about Bihar’s migration and border issues, I had the chance to experience how immediate these issues are to the Biharis; and the possibility of the Naxalites hijacking our Radjhani Express train to Patna suddenly felt dramatically real.

Through these experiences and through an evolution of several ideas, I chose to develop a new work that I felt would best capture both the local situation corresponding to a global phenomenon, as well as satisfy my personal curiosity. In my work directly preceding the workshop, Terra Incognita, et cetera (mural, interactive performance and installation with video, 2009) I questioned the concepts of maps, cartography and territory. During the workshop, the environmental context of where we stayed at Taru Mitra laid a contextual sensibility for me to focus on the ephemeral aspect of borders. Following these trails up, I decided to turn into local materials: with an idea for an ephemeral interactive performance and installation work using maps in mind, I started experimenting with garlands of flowers that are commonly used for decoration in festivals, weddings and religious events in India.

Based on the four-colour map theorem that I have discovered when I started working with cartography on Terra Incognita, et cetera, I used four types of fragrant flowers that I took off from the commonly used garlands: yellow marigold, orange marigold, white tuberose, and red hibiscus. The spatial quality of the site I chose for my work was equally important: it had to accommodate the need for my bird’s-eye view video recording; it also had to make it possible for the audience to see the work from a distance, as well as for me to invite the audience to physically interact with the work. The only possible site was the main rotunda of Taru Mitra, at which mezzanine I could station my video camera in. The circling shape of the mezzanine was ideal to accommodate my viewing audience as well.

My video camera recorded, in time-lapse, the whole event that took place in three days – the Open Day and the two days preceding it. Having pulled the flowers off the sacks of garland we bought at the Hanuman market in Patna, I started with a bed of mixed-coloured flowers. After painstakingly separating the flowers to shape a map of India with its 28 states, in the Open Day I asked the audience to trace their interstate movement and migration, by moving the flowers between the corresponding states. This act resulted in the flowers being remixed, and eventually in blurring the borders. A video in-progress was shown from my laptop during the Open Day as well, to help me explain that I was recording the whole process.

The title of this work, Nous ne notons pas les fleurs, is taken from a dialogue in Le Petit Prince (Exupéry, 1943), where a geographer tells the Little Prince that geographers do not record flowers because, unlike the earth, flowers are ephemeral. In this work, it is exactly because the flowers are ephemeral that I used them to denote borders – and it is exactly because they are ephemeral that I recorded them (in video). It is also because of the fairytale-like nature of the story that I chose to use the title (in reality, geographers are aware that political borders are ephemeral, and flowers are integral to their studies).

The residue of this work, which I continued to work on after the workshop, is a video triptych showing the event through a single angle, yet from three different perspectives. The single angle is the bird’s-eye view, while the three perspectives are different because each of them views the process in a different time-scale and time-range. The left screen only depicts the process of shaping the map, referring to the man-made process of nation building. The centre screen only depicts the process of evolution of the shape, referring to natural geographical evolution. The right screen only depicts the process of blurring the borders, referring to the man-made process of a revolution.

I was associated with the workshop as a participating artist and as a co-coordinator of the program. I would like to underline that though it was difficult task to change hats, it was an extremely rewarding experience. In supervision of the Host Shambavi Singh, I started the prep–work for the workshop 5-6 months in advance. We spent hours and late nights to make the event happen. From designing the logo of the event to creating the event charter, setting up the venue, coordinating with the artists, creating the event planner, running after the sponsors, getting the banners/hoardings sponsored and what not. Doing all this I have had the most unique experience of my life. I thank Shambhavi for this opportunity, I have learnt a lot in the process: professionally and socially.- Hide quoted text -

SOILBITE KHOJ Bihar 2009 started with an ecstatic start, and lot went in the making. The venue was great; the untamed wilderness of nature at Tarumitra ashram opened the doors of minimalist’s ideology to my conscious. I really thank Father Robert, who created and maintained this in all aspect of life.

Our visit to nearby sites like Bodhagaya and Ganga ghat was transcendental experience which brought all of us closer to rich cultural heritage of the region. The place/venue offered a great potential to accomplish a successful workshop.

My work was influenced by all these elements besides the Mushar tribe that exists near Patna who live a very humble life style. They live close to the nature, and enjoy their life in its unstable momentum.

My work showcased the need of a woman to have her own space. The silver dream is surrounded; around the way she would like to decorate it with her dreams, desires, and protect it from all odds. She would knit the dreams and make a roof of stars for her home, she would paint the walls of the house with her desires, and would try to protect it from all odds, using all odds.

The workshop had a blend of emotions happening at the same time. The language barriers did exist, but it could not stop the ideas to flow between the artists. With all the difference of opinions and background we weaved a creative atmosphere for nurturing our art works.

I have a lot to say and share, but in a nut shell I congratulate KHOJ for continuing such a rich tradition of bringing together the national /international artists to remote regions of India. The model of providing a platform to artists created a synergy that impacted on an individual’s intellect and experience on multiple fronts. I really appreciate KHOJ for all the support they extended to make this happen.