October 26, 2012
Raghu Rai is a photographer of international importance who derives all his nourishment from the land that raised him. From his days at India Today and those remarkable, unforgettable black and white photo features that helped propel IT into the serious content magazine category, his fame is legendary now.
His latest book ‘The Sikhs’ along with the redoubtable Kushwant Singh is fresh off the Lustre Press. Roli Books make an impressive large square format documentary on the lions of Punjab.
The text has been written authoritatively and with the very readable, simple style that makes Kushwant Singh the icon that he is. It is very clear that the subject is part of KS’s (not to be mistaken for Kamasutra, he writes because a condom for the pen has not been invented yet) blue blood cells. Kushwant Singh weaves his narrative over the history of the Sikhs interlocking its spiritual ideology with the religious rubric. The politics of the Punjab, the dynastic clashes, the fall of the kingdom, the role the Sikhs played during British rule, the Nationalist movement, the Akalis, The Temple and Operation Blue Star. Through reading the text (and its un putdownable) you somehow get to know the author more and how much he loves and admires the people and the land that give him an identity and a voice. He tries to be objective but is any objectivity ever possible? One of the most endearing qualities of Kushwant Singh is his ability to laugh at one and all. There is no malice in the man despite his columns’s claim. There are typically some Sardarji jokes too in the book.
But this is largely a Picture Book in gleaming colour fabulously produced, with a clean layout. By any standard it is a beautiful book however, Raghu Rai has to be judged on a standard that he himself sets up and by that exalted benchmark the book falls very short. Raghu Rai has this genius quality of the elements of foreground, background and midground coming together in an almost advertising set up. When you see a Raghu Rai you cant help but be messmerised at how this trained dog and trained cow and trained crow and trained people and sculpted sky and etched tree all come together co ordinated and preordained in the middle of the nowhere. Or from within the chaos of Chandini Chowk, a pattern, a shape, a form, a canvas emerges. He does this with such uncanny regularity that you would think that he travels with a caravan size prop box and trained extras who pop up like cutouts in the desert. His unique sense of composition leaves you not getting the ‘whole in one’. You need to come back often, mull, savor, get pieces of it till finally the synapses in your head go click and it falls mysteriously in place like a cyberslot machine. The greatest quality of a Raghu Rai is its ability to make you part of the creative process rather than presenting you with a beautiful picture that leaves no doubt as to its origins and destination, a fait accompli. A picture that you ‘get’ at once does not need to be revisited. Raghu Rai’s images have a shadowy, mysterious quality but here he visits his own work like a ghost, appearing sometimes and walking out of his mind at others. The work looks too similar to Rahgubir Singh’s, most of it shot as a observer rather than a participant. Yes if you are a sikh you will definitely want to own this book, but if you are looking to see a Raghu Rai then the book hangs tenuously and it momentarily seems like the plastic credit card is heavier than the considerable book, should you commit the Rs 1975 or not, that act of indecision is where the book loses out. There are books out there that leave no doubt that even if you have to rob your grandmother to own it then shut your eyes and your qualms do it and sit down gently later to explain, and buy your ticket to visit Benares and do Ganga snan too.
The photos on page 43, 51, 54, 75, 77, 80, 81, 83, 84, 92,105 and 115 are purely redoubtable RR and truly marvellous. Some of them do look staged but what the heck, it seems natural and within context. The others are there and have documentary significance, the gaping hole in the golden temple after operation Blue Star is a glaring example, the rest of the images are cold and seem to look a bit tired. The text talks of the diaspora but where are the sikh cabbies and truck drivers? They seem to be on strike. Where is the Sikh Regiment? And the sikhs all over the subcontinent and beyond? Where is Bangra, bangra rap, and hello where is Daler Mehndi and Jaspal Bhatti? Oh they are in the cabs and trucks that are on strike and stranded.
Raghu Rai’s style is inimitable though a couple of young photographers try hard, they if they don’t watch out will always be a facsimile. There can be only one Raghu Rai as there is only one Kushwant Singh, but there are many sikhs and thankfully this is not the definitive volume, so take heart. The Sikhs don’t give up their secrets all that easily, maybe they are more democratic in sharing their mystique and wealth than artists and photographers are.
There is a lesson and a huge one somewhere, Sikhism is a direct reaction against the Hindu caste system, it does occur that if one exchanges this oppressive social structure for a more egalitarian one or reorganise it to be contemporary then the people of that belief system inherit the earth and the wealth it provides. There are no Sikh beggars, chew on that Yaswant Sinha and Lal Kishan Advani.
March 19, 2010
Just By the Way is as casual a title as are the photographs of the latest Rahgu Rai show concluded at the Jehangir Nicholson Art gallery.
Sometimes famous artists pull out from their old stock of negatives what they missed the first time around and believe that their stature in the firmament of photography will see them through regardless. Most often the markets are so greedy that that premise is valid, the work slips by, sometimes though the work is so flawed that it becomes imperative to state that the emperor is wearing no clothes.
Raghu Rai is shooting himself in the foot by showing work that seriously begins to damage his credibility as a very fine artist. Rocks Clouds and Nudes will come back to haunt him.
Most photographers at some stage dabble with nudes, the gender, the forbidden, the erotic the edgy sexiness and the taboo of the naked human body all become of interest to explore aspects of themselves hitherto unchallenged. How you rise to the occasion and transcend the banal is what imbues the subject with its appeal. Raghu Rai fails miserably. His images look voyeristic and unaesthetic that all hark back to some amateur photographs in disreputable mens magazines 30 years ago.
Most of his nudes were shot around 1984, Orwellian. Nudes II and III in particular have a woman with jeans un zipped but folded inwards so that you have full view of pubes in a most self conscious, ‘forced’ way. Her blouse is twisted off revealing, without even the choli ke peeche innuendo, her breasts. The photographer’s direction is written all over it. Nudies, uggh.. is the title of other works where a nudie is sitting on a pot with muslin draped over it uncermoniously, the photo comes leaping out of Photgraphic Society of India circa 1965. Some images are called naively, Infinity.
Besides the prepubescent content and form, the images are so poorly finished and presented. These are digital inket prints that have pen and ink hand drawn borders with very exercrable draftsmanship. Black Patches - lest you miss the nipples behind the see through muslin are ‘burnt’ in to singe your testoserone. Domes of fame – ah the man is referring to the Taj in the background while Aurangzeb in the foreground has made a cup of tea for the nudie. Wah Taj! The list is endless one worse than the other.
The only saving grace comes from a very unlikely source, and it has no clouds, no rocks and no nudes mercifully. Called Trees and Bamboo, you can buy this at firstname.lastname@example.org