I really dislike art exhibitions. My whole life I was Picasso-splained by the more "financially comfortable" of my friends, that if I didn't know exactly the time of the day when the wood used to mount the canvas was chopped, I was not properly appreciating the painting. I was afraid that the Kochi-Muziris biennale would trigger some painful emotions. The artists who brought their work to the biennale slapped the privilege out of me, to shine on art a kinder, more universal light.
"Water, water, everywhere/ Nor any drop to drink"
One of the difficult themes for me was the plight of those who live lives different from us. For many artists, it was the refugee crisis.
The most pertinent work, is Raul Zurita and his much talked about work /in the sea of pain. "Can you see me?" The walls cried out in the massive warehouse was punctuated by the splish-splashes of posh ladies who struggled to gather their skirts above their knees so it wouldn't touch the water. As my feet hit the clammy floor, I was thrilled. I had come so far to see this. But my head was above the water. My tummy was full. I was angry.
How could an artist trivialise a phenomenon that kills thousands with something so sterile that it felt like a trip to Disneyland? Zurita did with his work what many could not do with numerous words.
We trudged from the largest venue, Aspinwell, to a smaller one to find Australian artist Alex Seton's work. His piece 'Refuge' (2015) was a favourite of the caretakers there, a realistic sculpture of a figure covered with tarpaulin. "Go closer," one of them urged me. "It looks like tarpaulin but it is actually marble." Then it struck me: the refugee was missing a face.
"Deep in earth my love is lying/and I must weep alone"
The theme of death was persistent, appreciated best, in my opinion by AES+F: A group of artists from Moscow, Russia. Tatiana Arzamasova, Lev Evzovich, Evgeny Svyatsky and Vladimir Fridkes. Their piece 'Défilé' (2000-07) had life-sized photographs of seven recently-deceased people dressed in high fashion. Almost an Edgar Allen Poe-esque vision come to life to depict the fleeting nature of fashion and life itself. This one was tough to look at as most of these bodies were in the early stage of decomposition. I dismissed the work as mere shock-value.
"...and every man plays his part"
The constant struggle of human performers, onstage and in life was also highlighted. Javier Perez, who showed at Pepper House in Fort Kochi, did this eloquently. His installation 'En Puntas', features a ballerina wearing a pair of slippers attached to a pair of kitchen knives, dancing atop a piano. It aimed to bring out suspense through futility, pain and implicit gaze of the audience. The expression on the dancer's face and the physical manifestation of the ballet slippers in the room was more than what my weak heart could handle.
For those whose lives these works of art imitated were not fortunate enough to see it. Which is possibly why its appreciation has been limited to niche circles? But for those months in Fort Kochi, the systematic blurring of spaces where art was found made it accessible to everyone. Sometimes art is a discussion over tea, like the murals on the walls at Kashi Art Cafe, graffiti on the walls of Fort Kochi. But the works I found most fascinating were those which I found difficult to look at, and this money cannot buy.
