State of Mind
Emotion - Sony World Photography Awards Brief
In the January of 2017 I received an e-mail from my mentor, Katrin Eismann, the department chair of MPS Digital Photography at SVA. The image below had been shortlisted for the Sony World Photography Awards under Student Focus category for the brief - 'Memories'.
It came as a jolt of surprise as there wasn't any anticipation to begin with. Also, I was in Iceland, stranded in Europe, waiting for my misplaced bags and visa documents to get to Berlin, when I received this e-mail. The timing was impeccable.
Ten students from around three hundred institutions across the world were shortlisted for the award. We were given a second brief - 'Emotion' and a week to shoot an essay of 7 - 10 images. A brief as broad and vague as 'Emotion' left me hanging for quite a bit. I tried solving the problem thrice. Below is a glimpse of what I had done:
In my first series (below) I approached people on the streets asking them to enact their favorite emoji. An attempt to revert the roles of technology and real life and to portray a person's identity through his/her most used emoji. It was an interesting social experiment, but I found the imagery flat and uninteresting.
The second series, using a sheen cloth to denote the veil we guard our emotions with, was a metaphorical take on our love-hate relationship with vulnerability. But staging an emotion did not pan out as envisioned.
The third series, my submission (below), was quite a simple and straightforward approach to provoke genuine emotions. 'The Element of Surprise' documented people's reactions to unforeseen sounds. It was an observation of how we, as humans, share identical senses/emotions but are unique in responses. How I emote surprise might be entirely different from how you do. (I have my friends complain that my surprise looks like 'whatever' to them, but that's another story)
I staged a basic portrait session for my peers to come in individually. After having them close their eyes reminiscing their happiest moments, I had a friend pop a balloon right next to them so as to capture the split second reaction. It was fascinating to notice how different people respond in unexpected circumstances. I had a few who were nonchalant, a few who screamed and a few who laughed. Below are the ones that made the cut.
The final set was presented in the format of a diptych which can be viewed here.
The series was on show at Somerset House, London as a part of Sony World Photography Awards Exhibition.
100 Days of Presidency
"You be nice to people but don't take no crap. I have Puerto Ricans, Latinos and Muslims in my neighbourhood and they are good to me, I am good to them. We are honest people. We need to work together. This country is a mess. All he's (Trump) been doing is good for this country. No body's done that.
..
China has a wall. China is scared of North Korea. China has no Muslims. Mexico has a wall on the Guatemalan border. Who are they to oppose us when we want one. The pope lives with a wall around him. Who is he to say no to us. The wall should be built.
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Anarchists invite trouble. You know the difference between anarchist's rally and us? There are no American flags there.
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"This is her third rally. She's a Trumpet"
Are you from India? Yea, I have a friend from there. Pakistan. And another from Bangladesh. (India, Pakistan and Bangladesh are different countries I replied) Yeah, but they're from the same (gestures to show an area). Asians are scattered everywhere.
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Have a good day today. You take care. If anyone gives you trouble, let me know."
- Greg Gone at the Trump supporters rally celebrating 100 days of his presidency.
"It wasnt a lot of effort to come up with 100 things. Thats the sad part. My parents are republicans and they keep asking me to give him a chance. I thought of it, but this was what I came up with. I'll be sending this list to them tonight." - Jennifer at the resistance rally outside Trump Tower on 5th avenue.
A week of Goli Soda
A significant part of my childhood in Vijayawada, India was spent awing every time the 'goli' pops before I was handed my drink. I was fascinated with the bottle.
Goli Soda, as it is more commonly known in South India, is a codd-neck-bottled drink that is often sold with carbonated water or lime juice. With the advent of carbonated beverages, Goli Soda started having a slow death.
In the March of 2015, I spent a week with the family of Aseefa, her neighbours and her vendor documenting 'a day in the life of' the bottle and the family dependent on it.
Aseefa begins her day by sorting out the bottles, washing and unclogging them.
Deepak, son of Aseefa's neighbor spends most of his day watching Aseefa work.
The bottles are then filled with a solution (lemon, water, salt etc) using a funnel and are placed in a machine that tightly holds the bottle and infuses carbon dioxide into the solution.
The soda machine that has been serving the family of Aseefa for over 30 years.
The machine is then rotated thrice so as to infuse carbon dioxide and push the marble to the top. A rubber ring around the neck protects the marble from falling out. Swinging the machine more than required has a dangerous consequence of excess pressure that can pop the marble out of the bottle.
Lemons used to make the solution.
Manjulatha, Deepak's sister loves walking around Aseefa's workstation to grab a sip or two of the drink.
Aseefa's husband has impaired eyesight that hinders him from performing the main chores.
Aseefa owns a set of around 50 bottles that she sells to various vendors in cases of 24 each at Rs.40/case.
One of Aseefa's vendor, Baby, with her cart.
On good days, Aseefa and Baby make approximately Rs.100. Summer is their busiest season while winter forces them to find other odd jobs to make a living. Aseefa lives a contented life with her husband and has two daughters, happily married and well settled.
An evening at Aseefa's home.
Hariprasad Gruham
In the early 1900's, a mansion panning over an acre, with a vast backyard, a hand-drawn well, a cow shed and a poultry farm was built in Chirala, a small beach town in Prakasham district of Andhra Pradesh, by Rao Bahadur Ravula Subbarao, a leading businessman and his brother Ravula Hariprasad Rao, an established advocate.
'Hariprasad Gruham' has been serving as home to the Ravula family ever since.
A rooster cackles at 4 AM. A distant sound of clattering utensils and a pungent smell of garlic fills the air. On the second floor of the mansion is a secluded bedroom. A railway track lies opposite the mansion. Trains pass by every half hour casting shadows that glide across the bedroom throughout the night.
Ravula Hariprasad Rao and his wife Annapurna Devi had 14 offsprings. The family grew up in Hariprasad Gruham before eventually moving to different cities after marriage. As in most Indian families, the paternal/maternal home was a summer getaway to the 37 grandchildren of Hariprasad Rao.
Summer, to these kids, used to be two months of rural Indian games such as 'aa metlu ee metlu' and 'donga police'. A major part of their childhood comprised waking up to roosters, milking cows, being fed by grandmom - finding joy in familiarity, unbounded attention and pampering.
My father is one of them.
A rooster cackled at 4 AM. A distant sound of clattering utensils and a pungent smell of garlic filled the air. I had spent the night counting the number of trains that casted shadows in the room on the second floor. It was August of 2015, a century since the mansion was built.
Four generations got together to reminisce their special little corners, sulking spots, secret spaces, scribbled walls, escape routes and folds of memories neatly hidden in the cracks of the walls of this 100 year old building.
It was a 48 hour celebration of various versions of home.
Home as in a kitchen you know your way around,
a beverage that starts your day;
a darkness that is never intimidating,
a mattress that feels right, afternoon naps a vindication;
a favorite nook, a daily routine;
Home as in boundaries within which strangers, acquaintances and friends become family.
'Hariprasad Gruham' is currently being renovated by Ravula Hariprasad Rao's son Chakravarthy who left behind an oil business in the Middle East to move back to his home town. Today, a swimming pool is being built next to the hand-drawn well, the cracks are being mended and the quintessential sea-green walls are being repainted.
A piece of land being given a new life, meaning and power; a treasure chest of comfort, intimacy and peace.
One Town
The flower market in the old town area of Vijayawada, India caters to the needs of thousands of devotees who visit the 'Kanakadurga temple', a holy place for Hindus. Catering to the different beliefs that devotees have regarding their offerings made to Goddess Durga, street vendors set up at the foot of the temple hill to sell various items as coconuts, fruits, flowers and sarees. Portrayed here are vendors co-existing peacefully within a shared market space.
Veil
Vulnerability is a double-edged sword. I have a love-hate relationship with the veil that guards me.
Outtakes from a photo-series.