‘Unframed: Discovering’ book review: Book meant strictly for academics

Express News Service

The Ministry of Information and Broadcasting had, at the first World Media Congress in Abu Dhabi last November, declared that India had more than 600 million smartphone users. The number is expected to increase to a billion by 2026. In a country where people are known to lose their lives while taking selfies, it boggles the imagination to even guess the number of selfies taken annually. Yet in a 666-page book on “image practices”, featuring essays by the likes of Aveek Sen, Premjish Achari, Nancy Adajania and Rahul Roy among others, apart from a few passing references to the smartphone, there is nary a study of this national addiction to taking pictures of oneself and posting them on social media. There is no mention of upcoming photographers either. Yet, quite predictably, there is an essay by art critic Geeta Kapur on four renowned practitioners, past and present—Umrao Singh Sher-gil, Pablo Bartholomew, Ketaki Sheth and Dayanita Singh— all of whom, save one, have never dipped their toes in the mainstream. 

In an age when inclusivity has been taken to ridiculous extremes, it is difficult to guess what led the editor, Rahaab Allana, to exclude from this volume some photographers—Raghu Rai, Sunil Janah, Homai Vyarawalla and Raghubir Singh—who are highly regarded all over the country, as well as Calcutta where the sale of daguerreotype cameras was first advertised on January 28, 1840 in a leading newspaper, and where Mons F M Montairo, India’s first professional photographer, had opened shop. The editor was probably guided by his own biases and, indeed, popularity is considered an anathema in certain exalted circles.   

A close look at the contents could be an eye-opener. Apart from the introduction by Allana, it is divided into five sections: ‘Historical and Contemporary Photography as a Complex Mirroring of the Personal and Social Self/ Other’, ‘Expansion of Cultural Imaginaries and Modes of Circulation Enabled by Technological Advances in Photography’, ‘Transformation of Image Spectra, Modes of Representation and Circuits of Spectatorship’, ‘Curation Methodologies and the Wider Role of Curatorial Practices’, and ‘Collective Knowledge Production and the Representation of National Cultural and Political Histories’.

Those looking for a straightforward account or history of photographic practices in South Asia would be sorely disappointed. As one swims in this ocean of verbiage, it becomes evident that the book is meant strictly for academics. Any attempt to wade through the editor’s dense prose can be a Sisyphean task for the reader. The elaborate ‘notes’ at the end of each essay prolong the torture. The editor, being the curator at the renowned Alkazi Foundation for the Arts in New Delhi, the art of curation––a term that has undergone much wear and tear through overuse––was naturally discussed at length. The inclusion in this volume of anthropologist and art historian Christopher Pinney, known for his study of visual culture in this part of the world, did not come as a surprise. Equally unsurprising was the mauling of Bengali poet Jibanananda Das’s name in another piece. 

To be fair, however, there are some excellent essays and interviews that throw light on the practice in neighbouring countries such as Bhutan, Myanmar, Nepal and Sri Lanka, including a piece on Bangladesh’s star activist-photographer, Shahidul Alam, who is well-known in Indian photographic circles and beyond as the man who single-handedly established lens-based art practice in the country, and groomed generations of practitioners. There are also writings on some multi-media artists––intrepid women, mostly––practising in troubled lands that are often deeply entrenched in conservatism.

It was a delight to read Omar Khan’s ‘Paper Jewels: Postcards from the Raj’ (the illustrations are exceptional), which describes the multifarious paper rectangles meant for communicating, both messages and images emanating from areas as diverse as erstwhile Ceylon, the North-West Frontier Province (Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), Lahore, Karachi and Sindh. There is a touch of nostalgia in Sabeena Gadihoke’s ‘Micro-narrative of Indian Photographic History: The Popular Newsmagazine The Illustrated Weekly’. Hammad Nasar’s ‘Pakistan: An Art of Extremes’ focuses on the history of visual art practice in the country, with which we undeniably have so much in common.

While reading these may have been a rewarding experience, overlooking the lack of method, and gaps in information is unavoidable. This is not to be expected in a publication where the contributors are names to be reckoned with in their fields.

<br /> The Ministry of Information and Broadcasting had, at the first World Media Congress in Abu Dhabi last November, declared that India had more than 600 million smartphone users. The number is expected to increase to a billion by 2026. In a country where people are known to lose their lives while taking selfies, it boggles the imagination to even guess the number of selfies taken annually. Yet in a 666-page book on “image practices”, featuring essays by the likes of Aveek Sen, Premjish Achari, Nancy Adajania and Rahul Roy among others, apart from a few passing references to the smartphone, there is nary a study of this national addiction to taking pictures of oneself and posting them on social media. There is no mention of upcoming photographers either. Yet, quite predictably, there is an essay by art critic Geeta Kapur on four renowned practitioners, past and present—Umrao Singh Sher-gil, Pablo Bartholomew, Ketaki Sheth and Dayanita Singh— all of whom, save one, have never dipped their toes in the mainstream. </p> <!-- WP QUADS Content Ad Plugin v. 2.0.85 --> <div class="quads-location quads-ad200503 " id="quads-ad200503" style="float:none;margin:0px 3px 3px 3px;padding:0px 0px 0px 0px;" data-lazydelay="0"> <!-- WP QUADS - Quick AdSense Reloaded v.2.0.85 Content AdSense async --> <ins class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block;" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7550963679842137" data-ad-slot="1823845571"></ins> <script> (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});</script> <!-- end WP QUADS --> </div> <p>Courtesy The Alkazi Collection of PhotographyIn an age when inclusivity has been taken to ridiculous extremes, it is difficult to guess what led the editor, Rahaab Allana, to exclude from this volume some photographers—Raghu Rai, Sunil Janah, Homai Vyarawalla and Raghubir Singh—who are highly regarded all over the country, as well as Calcutta where the sale of daguerreotype cameras was first advertised on January 28, 1840 in a leading newspaper, and where Mons F M Montairo, India’s first professional photographer, had opened shop. The editor was probably guided by his own biases and, indeed, popularity is considered an anathema in certain exalted circles.   </p> <p>A close look at the contents could be an eye-opener. Apart from the introduction by Allana, it is divided into five sections: ‘Historical and Contemporary Photography as a Complex Mirroring of the Personal and Social Self/ Other’, ‘Expansion of Cultural Imaginaries and Modes of Circulation Enabled by Technological Advances in Photography’, ‘Transformation of Image Spectra, Modes of Representation and Circuits of Spectatorship’, ‘Curation Methodologies and the Wider Role of Curatorial Practices’, and ‘Collective Knowledge Production and the Representation of National Cultural and Political Histories’.googletag.cmd.push(function() {googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-8052921-2’); });</p> <p>Those looking for a straightforward account or history of photographic practices in South Asia would be sorely disappointed. As one swims in this ocean of verbiage, it becomes evident that the book is meant strictly for academics. Any attempt to wade through the editor’s dense prose can be a Sisyphean task for the reader. The elaborate ‘notes’ at the end of each essay prolong the torture. The editor, being the curator at the renowned Alkazi Foundation for the Arts in New Delhi, the art of curation––a term that has undergone much wear and tear through overuse––was naturally discussed at length. The inclusion in this volume of anthropologist and art historian Christopher Pinney, known for his study of visual culture in this part of the world, did not come as a surprise. Equally unsurprising was the mauling of Bengali poet Jibanananda Das’s name in another piece. </p> <!-- WP QUADS Content Ad Plugin v. 2.0.85 --> <div class="quads-location quads-ad200503 " id="quads-ad200503" style="float:none;margin:0px 3px 3px 3px;padding:0px 0px 0px 0px;" data-lazydelay="0"> <!-- WP QUADS - Quick AdSense Reloaded v.2.0.85 Content AdSense async --> <ins class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block;" data-ad-format="auto" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7550963679842137" data-ad-slot="1823845571"></ins> <script> (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});</script> <!-- end WP QUADS --> </div> <p>Courtesy Mayco NaingTo be fair, however, there are some excellent essays and interviews that throw light on the practice in neighbouring countries such as Bhutan, Myanmar, Nepal and Sri Lanka, including a piece on Bangladesh’s star activist-photographer, Shahidul Alam, who is well-known in Indian photographic circles and beyond as the man who single-handedly established lens-based art practice in the country, and groomed generations of practitioners. There are also writings on some multi-media artists––intrepid women, mostly––practising in troubled lands that are often deeply entrenched in conservatism.</p> <p>It was a delight to read Omar Khan’s ‘Paper Jewels: Postcards from the Raj’ (the illustrations are exceptional), which describes the multifarious paper rectangles meant for communicating, both messages and images emanating from areas as diverse as erstwhile Ceylon, the North-West Frontier Province (Khyber Pakhtunkhwa), Lahore, Karachi and Sindh. There is a touch of nostalgia in Sabeena Gadihoke’s ‘Micro-narrative of Indian Photographic History: The Popular Newsmagazine The Illustrated Weekly’. Hammad Nasar’s ‘Pakistan: An Art of Extremes’ focuses on the history of visual art practice in the country, with which we undeniably have so much in common.</p> <p>While reading these may have been a rewarding experience, overlooking the lack of method, and gaps in information is unavoidable. This is not to be expected in a publication where the contributors are names to be reckoned with in their fields.<br />