The Strangers We Know art exhibition explores disconnect among kith and kin

The Strangers We Know art exhibition, currently on at Neighbour Gallery in Kesavadasapuram, Thiruvananthapuram, is divided into two by a monochrome partition filled with photographs from the exhibit titled Surge by Chennai-based photographer Priyadarshini Ravichandran. The black and white portraits are displayed in a grid, bordering the entrance to another room where the rest of photos from the series are showcased.

On the opposite wall are art installations by Thiruvananthapuram-based artist Sanath Sugathan, faintly boasting shades of green, blue, brown and more. Unevenly spaced and unique in form, the works range from acrylic paintings to sketches by the artist wrapped around the gallery’s pillar.

However, despite the evident contrast, the artists and their art are tethered by their disconnect with the familiar and the familial, “attempting to cope with the fragility of blood ties while also celebrating the connections they experienced with strangers.”

Surge solely consists of pigment-printed photographs captured by Priyadarshini during a workshop in Cambodia. The rest of the exhibit includes an accordion photobook with pictures glued to it in a checkerboard pattern and two larger photos on each side, showcased on a wall.

The photos stemmed from Priyadarshini’s need to capture a “loss of connection” with her sibling back home. Portraits of “strangers, animals, trees, rocks and cityscapes became placeholders for articulating the complexity of my relationship,” she says.

“I made Surge from an insuppressible need to free myself from the guilt I felt due to an estrangement. My process and pace of taking photographs was rigorous, as if to express myself even when communication had ceased,” says Priyadarshini, a winner of the Parasol prize by V&A Museum, a prestigious international award for women photographers.

Another exhibit by Priyadarshini is Paattu Class, a 15-minute documentary made with footage compiled over the last 10 years. It deals with the relationship between the photographer’s mother and the mother’s aunt. Priyadarshini studies music from the two, and these lessons form the crux of the documentary. Over the years, the aunt became a mother to Priyadarshini’s mother.

“I never intended to make a film. I began to film our classes mostly to memorise the verses, and over time these recordings began to unravel the unspoken nature of their relationship to me,” she says.

“I began to edit the film after a friend based in Kathmandu nudged me to do it upon hearing that my grandmother had passed away last year,” says Priyadarshini, who shot the film on handycams, DSLRs and phones.

Shades and glimmers

On one corner of Sanath’s side of the exhibits, a cactus plant is set up. On a closer look, there are scribbles on the tender stem of the desert plant that reads ‘grandmother’, ‘mother’, ‘son’, ‘grandfather’ … one on each branch. A few feet away from the larger plant, a small plant is also placed on the soil.

The Family Tree exhibit can be traced back to Sanath’s childhood memories of his ancestral home in Paripally, Kollam. “There was a cactus plant in one corner of the house; it was not very large but had a lot of branches. I remember finding my cousins’ names being etched on its branches. I also did the same,” says Sanath.

“I felt the plant represented our family metaphorically. The cactus has a protective exterior due to the thorns, but the plant by itself is very soft,” says Sanath.

Does It Still Hurt to Step on Broken Glass in The Sand?, is an acrylic painting of glass shards on sand with one end of a cassette tape attached to the portrait, while another one flutters in the air. The cassette is displayed too.

This artwork is closely related to an idea called spacious togetherness, referring to the significance of space between individuals in different relationships.

“During a conversation, one of the initiators of the Neighbour gallery, Valentina Abenavoli, told me about how two porcupines cannot stand too close to each other or hug each other. They must find a comfortable space to stand without hurting each other,” says Sanath, pointing out that traversing through relationships requires a sense of tenderness, much like walking on sand with broken glass, inspired by a sight near his residence in Varkala.

The shards of glass represent glimmer, a short-lived ray of light, explains Sanath, recalling his constant “pursuit of possible tenderness or healing” through glimmers as a child.

The tape from the audio cassettes fluttering represents a core memory for the artist who used to throw cassettes high up on tree branches and see the brown tapes hang there. This happened when cassettes were becoming obsolete with the arrival of the CD, Sanath recalls.

Three Scenes of a Landscape consists of two relief sculptures (sculptures attached to the background) made from plaster of Paris and a five-minute video of a family getaway captured by Sanath.

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“It was a difficult time for my family. We travelled to a place thinking it might help us heal, and I started recording,” says Sanath.

As a child, Sanath’s sister had developed a fear of water when she almost drowned in the sea. However, the video has her stepping into a stream with currents. In the backdrop, Sanath’s mother, out of fear, asks her daughter to return. “She is trying to control her child with her fear. That’s when we see my sister break her hereditary patterns by stepping into the water.”

His other works at the exhibition include drawings and excerpts of his writings, an archival book and Gouache (opaque watercolour) on Chinese paper.

The Strangers We Know exhibition is on till May 31 at Neighbour Gallery in Kesavadasapuram, Thiruvananthapuram. Entry free.

Published – May 13, 2025 04:04 pm IST