Art in Transit
Veda Thozhur Kolleri
This book takes you through certain critical points in my inquiry into Peenya and my role as someone who is trying to understand how people lend character to the spaces that they occupy. I have very deliberately chosen to represent this in the form of journal notes, because as I have moved along my process, I have realized that I consistently place myself between what I choose to represent and how I choose to represent it.
16th July, 2014 Peenya. This is not what I thought it would look like. It’s vast and everything is so loud here. There are three lanes of fast moving traffic right outside the metro station. I’ve made a couple of drawings of the bridge that I’m sitting under. People are looking at me curiously because I’m sitting at the divider. A few others from class seem to have arrived, and the construction workers are identifying us as being part of the same group. I suppose it’s because we all seem a little clueless about what we’re doing here. I’m now behind the station, on the trunk of a tree that’s been cut. They seem to be doing some construction work here, because of which it is a mess. It has just occurred to me that everything that we seem to be doing towards progress is contingent on time and doing things faster. For instance, this metro station is supposed to be a convenience, and convenience somehow is beginning to mean shrinking time. My sitting here and drawing the things I see consumes time, but it still seems valid, so why rush? Do we really need to get things done faster, or is it just that the world is being run this way, and so we’re trying to fit ourselves into it? Of course, convenience is nice. But I think I’d like things to slow down sometimes.
A drawing of one of the electricity poles behind the station, and another of scrap from construction; two images that I now remember Peenya by.
29th July, 2014 We’re supposed to explore the area today. I’m in the neighbourhood that we noticed the last time we were here. It’s down the road from the station. I didn’t expect to see a locality like this in a place with such a neat metro station. I noticed that a whole row of houses in the front has been broken down for its construction. I’m now at a house that’s under construction. Most of these houses are small, but there are a few larger ones that seem lifeless in comparison. They have security cameras at their gates, while their neighbours are cutting vegetables and washing dishes at their doors, chatting about seemingly trivial things. Why does wealth turn us into private people? Is it really power, or are we threatened by the fact that we may lose it all if we’re exposed? Some kids are looking into my book and are asking to be drawn. I’m drawing one of their houses instead. I’m not sure I want to draw portraits for a while. I feel like I might be able to find something to pursue if I looked at spaces that people occupied instead, and I’d somehow like to make these places their portraits. I’ve just met this little boy, Darshan, and we’re outside his house. While we were walking here, his friend and he were making a bit of a noise outside the big house, and the man that lives there shouted from the darkness of his living room to shoo them away. Makes me think of Boo Radley from To Kill a Mockingbird. But this only reinforces that thought about ‘rich’ people. The New Rich. Darshan has brought us to his school. It’s in the area across the road from the station. I think it’s called SRS. Kids are playing cricket here, and they’re speaking to me in English. One of them asked if I was American and was disappointed when I responded in Kannada. Before we came here, we saw some of the factories. There are more men than women here, and they’re all in uniform. I found what looked like two gravestones behind one of the factories – at least they look like gravestones, but it didn’t make sense why they were there. They looked like they had been forgotten.
When I drew both these drawings, I remember noticing that most of what I saw around me were objects of utility.
And simultaneously, the people I saw were in professions that are also utilities, in a sense.
31st July, 2014 I have just met Chikkuthaiamma, a woman of about 70. The last time she offered me water, but we didn’t speak very much. She is making flower garlands at her door. She introduced her husband to me. He seemed a little suspicious – asked what we were all doing here – and if we were social workers. He couldn’t understand what I meant when I said I was here to draw, because he doesn’t think I can get anything from drawing. It’s hard to explain these intangible ambitions to people who are forced to live modestly because of circumstance. I’m outside Yashodha’s house now, at a construction site. She came out to speak to me because she saw the kids surround me. They were asking me to draw them again. I have drawn just one of them. The drawing makes him look older than he is, but he’s happy, and now they’re all asking to be drawn. Yashodha is a history major. She’s apparently a teacher at one of the schools here, and the kids are referring to her as Yashodha Teacher. She’s curious about what I’m doing because she sees me as an arts student. And she mentioned that she isn’t married very proudly too. Her mother kept calling out to her, so she had to leave. I asked her about the houses that had been broken down in the front. She said that the people living there were given money to build new houses, and so they’ve either all moved to different parts in the area, or have moved out and built houses for themselves. She makes it seem like it all worked out very well. The kids are hounding me to be drawn. I want to look around for a while before I begin to draw, because there are too many of them. I’m at a shop. The shop owner called out to me herself, because she thought I was lost. Apparently she saw a few others from class a couple of days ago looking lost. She is surprised that I speak Kannada. I think if I walked around like this on the other side of the road, my experiences would be very different. Here, I’m mostly getting to speak to women, and they’re taking turns to invite me in for tea. I have just finished a drawing one of their children, Kishan. He’s very young, so he refuses to sit still, and it took me two drawings to get him to look like anything. I haven’t drawn portraits in pencil before, so I’m finding it really hard, and I haven’t made anything I’m happy with. Yet. But I’m trying not to overthink it. It seems to be working as the perfect icebreaker. I’ve been invited to a few other houses in the parallel lanes now to make drawings of their children. None of the adults seem enthusiastic about being drawn – sacrificing mothers, or they just think drawings are for children.
I have made about seven portraits today. Really quick ones, though. I’m heading back now. I’m beginning to enjoy this mode of working. It’s making me suspend all my distant assumptions of the oh-so-terrible evils of development. But I still don’t know how I’m going to bring these experiences together. I can only think very literally in terms of what I can do at the station with all these tales I’m gathering, and that’s definitely not the way I want to go.
1st August, 2014 We had to meet as a class at the metro station today, so I thought I’d come down the road to the neighbourhood, but I don’t have my sketchbook on me. Considering how I was hounded the last time, I think I may have made a subconsciously deliberate choice not to bring it, even though I’m telling myself that I forgot. The kids came running at me for photographs, since they saw my camera. I don’t think I should be using it too often. The sketchbook makes me more approachable. Kishan’s mother offered me some tea. She showed me some photographs of her children as kids. Her daughter, who’s about 14, insists on speaking in English with me. And her mother insists on using her as translator in her presence, because I think she thinks that I will be impressed. I wish they wouldn’t see me that way - as this much of an outsider because it makes me feel like even more of one, and I’m not sure about what I’m trying to do here by speaking to them and trying to somehow bring them to the metro station. I have just met another family who offered me more tea. They’re the first Hindi speaking family I’ve met here so far. I think they approached me because they thought we could converse in Hindi. They’ve been living here for 7 years, and it seemed like they were still looked at as outsiders, because of the way people were watching us as we walked into their house. The people here seem very warm. I can’t imagine our neighbourhood inviting passers-by in for tea. In fact, I wouldn’t do it myself. Is it just to do with their curiosity towards what I’m doing, or would they be this way with anyone that came here?
A very quick drawing of Kishan. He doesn’t speak very much. So far, I’ve only heard him cry.
15th August, 2014 After giving in the first draft of my proposal, I’m now in Peenya to think about ways to move forward. I haven’t thought of a form yet, so I’m just going to be continuing to draw and document my thoughts both visually and in writing. It’s a public holiday today, so all the kids are home. They came running towards me the moment they saw me approach, asking to be drawn. They were posing like they would for a photograph. I drew them all faceless to make a point about how I wouldn’t do portraits, and so they started exaggerating their poses. Their comments on my drawings are always amusing. They were trying to explain to one another how time consuming it is to draw full figures, and were instructing one another on how to improve their poses to look cooler in the drawing. They also asked me if I was drawing them for Facebook. One of the younger kids wanted to be drawn alone, and he was getting singled out because of his size. They bullied him into singing in return for a drawing. He sang very loudly, and everyone came out to see what the commotion was about. He was asked to shut up, but he went on, which was when a youngish man approached us. He seemed like he was using the kids as a buffer to find out who I was, where I was from, etc. I wasn’t in the mood to answer his questions, and so I left sooner than I had planned. Coming here alone isn’t as pleasant because of these experiences and it only leaves me feeling negative.
These are drawings from a walk we took around the area until we arrived at a spot that was to become my spot for the following days.
22nd August, 2014 I am at the other end of the neighbourhood, where people don’t know who I am or what I do, so they’re all curiously watching me. The kids here seem shy, possibly because they’re all very young. They’re watching me draw instead of asking to be drawn. I’m sitting on a stone slab in front of Divya’s house. She’s about my age and she lives with her mother. I don’t have much time today, but I think I should come back here. It is peaceful. I’ve found myself a spot where I can sit down and draw, and because there are fewer people, I’m not being told who or what to draw.
28th August, 2014 I’m taking a break from going into the neighbourhood by staying at the station in the hope that through this distance, I might arrive at some ideas. I drew portraits of two of the guards at the station. Both of them are from West Bengal, and they live in Peenya. It feels different in here after having spent most of my time in the Peenya neighbourhood. I’d have a very different understanding of the place if I spent more time here. There’s something about drawing portraits of people I don’t know that makes it easier to start conversation. But I’d still like to look at spaces over faces.
2nd September, 2014 I’m outside Divya’s house again, and I’ve just finished a drawing of the shop that’s in front of me with the shopkeeper sitting outside it. I’m working on larger (imperial) paper today, because I thought I’d start working on a larger scale, and I’m going to leave the drawings behind and give away the portraits I make. Divya’s mother insisted that we eat with them, they gave us a little too much to eat. They asked us questions about what we do, and what opportunities we have once we’re done. They confessed that they didn’t think we would eat food that they’ve made for caste reasons, but apparently Divya told her mother that if that were the case, we wouldn’t choose to sit there and draw either, and that’s how she mustered the courage to offer to feed us. They think that it’s not safe for us to be eating out at places here because of the kind of people that frequent them. A lot of people stopped by asking questions about what I’m doing, and Divya was answering them for me, because they seemed a little unimpressed with my responses. Her loyalty towards me is amusing, but I guess we’re all trying to impress people in these little ways. I’m feeling so much lighter today, since I’m not carrying any drawings back with me. I don’t have to see them again, so even though I’m not happy with some of them, I’m feeling a sense of accomplishment at having let go. I’m beginning to get concerned about whether it will be fair for me to represent the people here at the metro station on the basis of these impressions I’ve formed of them. I’m wondering if I should do something that gives them at least some agency, but I’m not sure how exactly. Could I bring them in to paint with me?
13th September, 2014 I’m at Divya’s house again today and one of my drawings from the last time is still up. Apparently some of the kids ripped the others. I haven’t been able to draw very much, because I’m a little confused about what I’m going to be doing for the exhibition. I’ve given my paper to the kids, and they’re using my colours to draw on them. It’s actually getting quite chaotic, and I’m not sure I can take on working with them at the metro station. How did I get to this point? I began making assumptions about the metro construction and the communities here, and how they’re probably affected, but once I began to acquaint myself with the people, I realized that those were assumptions that need to be let go of. I then thought I would look at the simultaneity of the two because I was interested in how the people that live here don’t really care about the station, just like the construction disregards their lives, and this was a sentiment I wanted to look into. But now? At every stage I make assumptions, and as I move along, I realize that I only have to let them go. When do I know that I’ve spent enough time here? They’ve finished their drawings, and I’ve run out of paper. Today hasn’t gone too well, because I have more questions than answers. But I think I’m sure that I wouldn’t want to directly involve people from the community to work with me until I understand who I’m doing this for and why.
17th September, 2014 It has been an eventful day. In prep for the exhibition, I found a wall in the neighbourhood where I could draw. I’d planned to make a composition on the spot by borrowing from the things I saw around me. Since it was a working day, most of the kids were at school for the first half. After a while a crowd of men had begun to gather in the area. One of the older women told me to leave immediately, claiming that these men were dangerous. I thought that she may have been making a fuss because she didn’t like me being there, and so I assured her that I would be careful, and continued to work. After lunch, when I went back, the kids were home from school. They were insisting that I draw them since I’d already drawn one of their friends who seemed to be a bit of a pushover. It was around then that the men came back, only this time, they were drunk. They yelled at the kids to stop bothering me, and the kids fled. I hadn’t seen the kids that afraid of anyone before, so I realised that I should leave immediately, also considering I’d been warned. Now I’m back at the metro station. I’m not sure I should go back there for a couple of days. I thought I’d spent enough time there to know that it was relatively safe, and I’m actually a little surprised that this happened.
I started by drawing one of the boys, and decided to then draw a backdrop of the metro line and the neighbourhood. I then drew a few houses, and a lamp post, and I was planning to fill the whole wall with elements like these, but since I was interrupted, I couldn’t.
22nd September, 2014 After the incident in the neighbourhood, I am now working in the metro station. I am considering working on portraits of the guards to use these session to gather stories like I did in the neighbourhood. I’m going to make these portraits directly on the wall. I’m actually a little anxious about that, because I won’t be able to tear out my paper and pretend that the drawing was never made. I’m also thinking of gradually layering these portraits with the stories, and compose half their faces with objects or symbols that might say something about who they are, but this is something I will only do over time. I wouldn’t want to force false stories just because I’d planned to layer their portraits.
A sketch of how I’m planning to layer the portraits.
The portraits I made for the exhibition.
29th September, 2014 I drew eight portraits in time for the exhibition. I started off a little afraid, but I was very enthusiastic about doing as many as I could. Working on such a large scale as opposed to my sketchbook was daunting but exciting, and the experience has given me a lot to think about. I spent an average of an hour on each one. Some even took two hours. And since I was drawing each one in quick succession, it was a little exhausting - not the drawing - but the eye contact. On my first day drawing, I made two portraits, and I wasn’t entirely happy with the way they had turned out. Since they were up on the wall, there wasn’t much that I could do about it. I felt like I had left parts of myself on these walls, and it made me very uncomfortable. The next day, I was a little more confident, or maybe just a little less afraid, and so I went right ahead and drew. I think by the time I made the fifth one, I was beginning to work very mechanically, and I was slowing down. But there’s definitely something to drawing faces that establishes a relationship with one’s subject. Even the guards I didn’t speak to very much while drawing seem familiar to me every time I see them, and they seem to reciprocate this sentiment. Based on the kind of responses I got at the exhibition, I feel like portraits seem like the easiest way to impress people - almost too easy. For me, this was just a part of something much larger that I’m hoping to achieve, and it felt like that larger motive was lost in how these drawings looked. I’m still hoping to layer them with stories from conversations I’ve had with the guards so far, and conversations that I am yet to have, and only then will I be able to call them complete. These were just tests to see if I could put myself out there, in my opinion. I feel like I have more control over my drawing now, since I worked straight on the wall, and on a larger scale even though I thought I was unprepared when I began.
17th October, 2014 I’m working on a wall in SFS. After the exhibition, there were some ideas that I wanted to pursue based on my experiences in Peenya. When I think of people, and the process of getting to know them, I feel that it is through letting go of one’s own sense of vulnerability that this happens. Departing from this thought, I have chosen to draw on a compound wall that stands to protect the house that it surrounds. I have drawn on a small section of the wall, and I’ve drawn what the wall hides to symbolically break it. I’d like to continue to work on this when I’m back because with such a small section of it drawn, I’m not sure it’s making it’s point as effectively as it would if I surrounded the house with the drawing.
4th November, 2014 I’m back to work, and I’m extending the drawing on the wall. I’m trying to create multiple vantage points, and it’s tackling that consumes more time than the drawing itself. I’m still using charcoal and chalk, but I’m considering using paint instead of chalk, because it is dusting off too easily. As I’m going along, I’m visiting a lot of thoughts and ideas from my impressions of Peenya. The neighbourhood there didn’t have houses that were bordered by walls, and because of this, people knew what was going on with the people that lived around them. Do we overvalue privacy? Because I’m not sure I’d be able to live that way – where my neighbours knew everything about me. Some people who’ve been watching me work every time they pass by have been trying to guess what I’m trying to do, and some of them are successful, too. It’s encouraging, but I’m wondering if this might just be too direct.
18th November, 2014 I’ve finally finished the whole stretch of wall. I had begun to slow down because I felt like it was beginning to look too redundant. But it looked incomplete until I took it all the way to the end. Now that I’m done, I feel like this definitely is an idea I’d like to pursue, and I’d like to extend it based on what my next site is.