Posts Tagged ‘Art’

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it was an interesting weekend full of art, talks, and books at the gender bender 2019.

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a talk on the history of women and gender in comics and a performance on gender and data later, there was a zine workshop.

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as someone who never bought into the whole establishment narrative, i loved the concept of zines as a platform for personal, social, and political expression.

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we flowed free on day one while day two revolved around the theme of gender/bender.

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© Anuradha Prasad 2019

among other things, there were pop-up libraries, menstrual-themed tarot cards, gender-focus posters from around the world.

© Anuradha Prasad 2019


© Anuradha Prasad 2018

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A door opens into a shadowy space, a potter’s workroom. Strands of sunlight that manage to permeate the space reveal a man at the potter’s wheel. Light bulbs attempt to brighten the small space, an artificiality that is not lost, that seems to further alienate the daylight flooding the streets outside. Against one wall is a high shelf holding figurines; the painted one holds a cigar in his mouth. Next to them is an altar with lamps lit.

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Shelves and trays around the room are filled with pots and other creations. Like these tiny Ganesha idols, only one of whose eyes have been shaped on the clay.

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Clad in a t-shirt and shorts, the man sits before a potter’s wheel. His hands remain at work while he watches television. Next to him is a pail of muddy water. An assistant bustles around; he disappears into a smaller adjoining room, bringing more clay, carrying the tiny pots outside on pallets where they can dry out in the sun.

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The potter says he has been doing this work for forty years now. That is all he is willing to share before turning his attention back to the television. His practiced hands are covered with dripping wet clay as they hold the spinning wheel.

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Almost magically, a tiny pot is formed. It is hard to pinpoint how it is created and when it is completed but the potter’s hands seems to know it all too well.

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The tiny clay pots are set aside; still wet but no longer formless, no longer liquid clay. An assistant whisks the pallet off once it is full. Neither exchanges a word. Outside, the last of the wet clay dry as they are sealed with a kiss from the sun.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016


a common sight in bangalore these days – concrete meets art




© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

fairy orbs

fairy orbs

the cosmos



the long-lashed dragon


the princess checks out the scene. no worthy knight in sight. phooey!

candles by the sea on a sunny day

candles by the sea on a sunny day (for no good reason)

scattered focus

focused scatter, matryoshka squares

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016

Nothing is original, steal from anywhere.


Image Credit: LoveKnysna

Jim Jarmusch says –
“Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination.
Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery – celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from – it’s where you take them to.”

I was reluctantly catching up on news and there was Girish Karnad beaming up at the camera, after his remark became part of the legions of  breaking news, when he said Rabindranath Tagore’s plays were mediocre.

Forgive me, but how does that become breaking news (by now we should be immune to this) and why the uproar?

The journalist asked him how he could say such a thing about a Nobel Laureate. Karnad said Tagore won that award for his poetry and he didn’t question the brilliance of his poetry. The journalist refused to allow this to sink in and in a voice that seemed to be pleading to Karnad’s better side, told Karnad that Tagore had penned the National Anthem of India and was it not disrespectful to say such a thing about Tagore.

Wait! Did Karnad abuse Tagore when he said his plays were mediocre?

Courtesy: from google images search

The response to art is subjective. If Tagore was alive he would have probably shrugged his shoulders and carried on with his poems, sketches, his plays. Why is the country taking it so personally?

Why is it that we cannot question or disagree or not want to fall at the feet of individuals like Mahatma Gandhi or Tagore in this case? Why should we put them in a glass showcase and place a placard outside that says ‘Revere or else…’.

I haven’t read a lot of Tagore and have a vague memory of his sketches at NGMA, which I quite liked. But I have the freedom to not like his plays, don’t I?  If I am particularly well-read and come from the theatre space where I have the opportunity to place Tagore’s plays among an array of plays by other playwrights, and out of the perspective i gain, rate it as mediocre would that be too presumptuous? You don’t have to buy my argument or back slap me for this astute observation…you know one man’s poison is another man’s wine or something like that, don’t you?

As if this was not ridiculous enough a Bengali theatre personality was interviewed and he said that one has to understand Tagore’s philosophy before one can appreciate his plays. Fair enough. He proceeded to say ‘If Tagore is first rate, Karnad is second rate. If Karnad is third rate, Tagore is second rate.’ Figure that one out!

Here’s a tongue-in-cheek piece on the controversy that i found on DNA –
Here’s what you have to understand about Bengal’s fascination for Tagore — he’s the coolest son of the soil we’ve produced. He was tall, good looking and did not have a noticeable potbelly. This is rare.”  Read on –