The project was conducted during the time after the first wave and before the devastating second wave of covid in India. When most people return from far working lands to their homes. Unfortunately, the damage was unfolding the darkest nature of the society we live in, and the event is just the mirror of the apathy and hatred people possess.
The curious point I look at here as a research question is, what makes one move towards a space called home in hard times? In other words, what is the idea of a safe place? Or what makes a site to be felt like home? What is that container we feel safe being placed in. Because the people who migrated to cities for better jobs where all are returning back to their hometowns, even though they have not had a comfortable stay back home.
The movement from initial wandering across the river, archaeological information, biosphere observation, conversation with locals, and my childhood days experience paved the way for inquiry.
The site holds a greater prominence in connecting the dots around the landscape. The two boulders standing at the center covered around the rice fields, towards the east is the range of hills where Neolithic remainings are sited, and towards the south, for a mile long, are the minor rock edicts of the great emperor Ashoka, who was a strong supporter of casteless society in the subcontinent.
And towards the west is the river Tungabhadra thriving around the corners of the tropical boulders. This surrounding landscape and trace of histories around the standalone stones at the center of the rice field have had the potential to draw a line for me, which lead me to think about the site as a pivot in connecting the dots and creating a new surface. This point of the site had the intensity to narrate a story! At a certain point on my journey, this ‘Site’ provoked me as a fulcrum point in making connecting dots.
The site-specific sculpture is made from building material and processes from local villages by conversing with villagers, site owners, neighboring rice field owners, and peasants. Thus, further observing the life of the sculpture with people and nature on its own. It is an attempt to extend the event of slit formation between the boulders.A vast open landscape painted with yellow rice hay, brown boulders, and blue sky simulating emotions connected to the sun and earth. The visuals are a yellow plan land with patches of black caused by the stubble burning.Looking a little further at the horizon, a vast hill with huge boulders can be seen, which draws the terrain of the tropical region. Where is this bunch of boulders moving ahead? They are just witnessing the time which is crossing across their periphery.
The quest here is to relook the formation of the slits within boulders. The boulders across the river Tungabhadra were once huge monolithic stones. However, over a period, due to different climatic and natural causes, they have turned into pieces. Thus, the slit and break-in boulders are the sites for my departure point to look at them.
As the slit is generated in a boulder, the next event after is the break and formation of new. This slit will lead to the formation of two boulders and so the beginning of many possibilities. The chances are created at the narrow space to carry the happenings of the world or to be occupied by the natural elements. This formation of the void between rocks has led to the establishment of space to reside, to nurture new beginnings of cultures and traditions. So, I wonder how the void formation creates itself in bridging the connections and being in a state of becoming. The space between the rocks becomes a secured space or a home for the many living beings.
The void converts the Space between boulders into a container for making a safe place. Like the ‘Carrier bag theory’ from author Ursula Le Guin, history begins with the tool container/bowl rather than a spear or linear direction of the timeline. The formation of a nest/cave from the natural phenomenon itself allowed us to be secured in times of catastrophes.
The site holds a greater prominence in connecting the dots around the landscape. The two boulders standing at the center covered around the rice fields, towards the east is the range of hills where Neolithic remainings are sited, and towards the south, for a mile long, are the minor rock edicts of the great emperor Ashoka, who was a strong supporter of casteless society in the subcontinent.
An ample number of massive boulders across the river Tungabhadra acted as an origin to a few of the settlements in the past, with painting evidence dating back to the Neolithic age. In today’s terms, the rocks become the raw material for the construction of shelters for many across the landscape. The boulders with massive scale and mass, with a subtle surface finish resulting from friction and wear caused by winds, stand as if they are about to fall. These multiple chunks of solid boulders, which once were gigantic rocks, are now an attractive and complex bunch of rocks delicately holding each other.
The cluster of boulders staying together against the winds and the natural phenomenon of decomposition ripples the effects of resilience and group formations. In so, they create rocky landscape terrain, hold delicacy in their being, and communicate the softness of nature to the society around them. The delicate balance and formation of a void between boulders in hills act as a metaphor for shaping the community around it. The void reflects back in people’s nature, indefinite and non-centered, but always in creating different actions that explore new ways of living.
Looking back at my childhood days when I grew up in the landscape of my locality, it always seeded some fascinating ideas about building the self. My upbringing, actions, and customs usually did not match the mainstream culture. There was always an emergence of newness when I encountered different people with different traditions tied to their caste. Looking at this nonalignment with another idea of living, it was always a frictional space that led to different outcomes.
A void is created at that point when I encounter an identity crisis where I should hide my belonging to fit into the group. This void in rendering my body identity speaks of my interest in space which is the desolation of an anchor.
This void becomes the space for archiving and rise of the stories, interaction, and time. As in many nodes of current society, the uprising of the pandemic, stringent state action, and economic instability led to rapid slit. Further leading to the emergence of new forms of communication and resistance.
The encounters with the villagers, site owners, farmers, and other local helping hands while I was handling the installation process permitted me to have a good amount of interaction to unfold the presence of deep-rooted caste hierarchies in my hometown.
The site where I selected to install the sculpture belongs to a person from a scheduled caste, and getting permission from him was a relaxed thing I could do, but because I was working in his field, which belonged to him. I had trouble accessing the red soil from nearby farms of the dominant caste. I needed to get it from other farm owners who were a little comfortable in their conversation with me. This whole experiment with stones, landscape, history, people, and identity gave some understanding insights into the deep-rooted structural caste hierarchy in every inch of this land.
