Commissioned

SHILPA GAVANE

Personal

eBooks

Clear

 

One of the delightful things about photography is that it makes you see something you’ve already seen, again, to give a different perspective and to make you see what you had ignored the first time, as a sort of revelation.

 

The primary interest of my work lies in portraying quality of urban life along with concerns of sustainability and ecology. Plastic bag has become a common sight, so common that it is ignored, akin to litter. To me, urban landscapes dotted with plastic bags represent not just our ignorance but an acceptance of trash in our daily lives.

 

‘Clear’ is about the consequence of using plastic bags in our life and on our landscape. It started with the idea that plastic is an all pervasive menace, which we turn a blind eye to. But history has shown us that we ignore dangers until the point they start threatening our survival. Only when we realize the criticality, some action is taken. Thus, my series highlights the presence of this deadly material in our daily life. The aesthetic is intended to be subtle because I wanted a kind of uncomfortable juxtaposition of the beauty of clear plastic bags set in a natural background of our contemporary life. The other reason behind the subtlety is also my personal aversion to loud/exaggerated journalism that engulfs our daily life through various media, to the visual language that depicts environmental dangers with a shock effect. The locations chosen for the photographs are generic in nature, so that the viewer can relate to their own version of these spaces. Thus the intention is to lure the viewer by these serene photographs and accompanying poems to make him/her aware of the underlying meaning: an imminent danger that is smothering our lives and threatening our future survival.

 

Digital photographs, 2012-2013

Inkjet print on archival : edition of 5

Size: 28” x 18”

 

 

 

 

 

 

a fleck in the forest,

a speck in the sky,

 

a blur in the water,

a smear in the field

 

a spot on the lawn,

a blot on the tree,

 

it’s everywhere

everywhere i see!

 

like speckles shining in the sun

like blobs floating around

 

it seems the world is full of them,

is this a beauty spot that i‘ve found?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lying casually,

pinching,

suffocating,

 

everything it’s stuck on

 

lying casually,

suffocating

killing softly,

 

everything it falls on..

 

on streets and gardens,

it just,

clings on...

 

where it just,

hangs on...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

as it flies,

to a landscape far away,

who could imagine

 

ever so subtly,

with the wind it floats,

free, silently

 

ever so softly,

it is creeping in,

into my house

 

when caught, only a sound of it fluttering,

comes a whispering,

a song of holocaust

 

death is coming in,

i suppose,

without making any noise

 

what’s the point screaming,

noone wants to hear,

noone wants to accept

 

who can stop it,

such a beautiful thing,

from reaching its destination

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anthills aren’t forever,

Neither are borrows,

Why is nature so temporary?

Where is the sustainability?

 

Analysing all this, a visionary,

He creates a beautiful city,

All roads and buildings and things

Have permanency, stability.

 

But after a million years

There lies a relic city,

Clogged by nostalgia, breathing banality

Is this ideal, dear visionary?

 

To give our children, he realises,

A space to create, scope to play,

All his creations,

Must be temporary.

 

We aren’t immortal,

Neither should our creations.

Unless something dies,

Something else won’t be born.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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