A sound artist may record the chorus of crows cawing, a coppersmith hammering tuk-tuk and the drill of a woodpecker. When all these cadences are put together, they communicate a certain mood that the artist derives from the environment — subtle tonalities. Like photography, sound, and of course music, can be replicated as many times. The technical superiority of the recording and mixing, and then its playback, are all instrumental in delivering the piece authentically. Photography, as an art form, has often been viewed with suspicion because of the possibility of replication, now further pushed to the back rows because of the ease with which anyone can take an interesting photograph with digital devices. The black box of the camera is even replaced by the window in the digital camera, where we can spy the result. To claim superiority and exclusivity, therefore, is far harder.
The photographic image is desirable for its character of persisting beyond the death of the individual, place and even memory. All these things pass, but if preserved, the photographic image can sustain. In Walter Benjamin’s famous essay ‘Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction’ in 1936 (which we now rush to time and again), he quotes Paul Valery, “Just as water, gas, and electricity are brought into our houses from far off to satisfy our need in response to a minimal effort, so we shall be supplied with visual or auditory images, which will appear and disappear at a simple movement of the hand, hardly more than a sign.” The prediction is startling, almost ominous. Even if a purist agrees to destroy the original negative, the very soul of the print, today’s digital image is already just a piece of information, easily altered, not silver halide chemically and organically effected. Does it become a unique rendering like Samar Jodha’s when he printed a series of construction workers’ images on concrete blocks for Art Chennai a few years ago? Even with these diverse applications, one is pushed to examine if we can stay true to photographic art by persisting with the traditional idea of a print.
Against this backdrop, it is pertinent to view the development of Chennai’s V. Karthik, who has married the art of photography, printing and conservation to hone his art in a unique manner. He recalls his neighbour processing black-and-white rolls in a room on the terrace, and learning from him as a young boy. Like children encouraged to learn the piano early on while their fingers are flexible, Karthik became one with the material.
Just as music can be processed electronically through a computer, the photograph too can be processed digitally. Light and speed, the two denominators of photography, however, have not changed with digital advances, and determine the photograph’s lucidity for any composition. The image should ideally hold the maximum information for a specific time and place setting. For Karthik, this quest for technical perfection has been constant and unwavering, at times superseding any other need. His lab outlasted all others in retaining a darkroom in Chennai, assiduously procuring chemicals from across the globe, with no profit other than a complete dedication to achieve the perfect print. Finally, he did switch to a complete digital set-up, a lightroom, during his massive photo-conservation efforts as the archive head of Sri Ramanasramam, making thousands of digital captures.
The need to conserve nature is equally imperative, and always conveying the need is harder. Out with nature at Pallikaranai Marsh, all of Karthik’s learning comes together to make the perfect image possible. Karthik says, “The colour principle in nature is so subtle. A small patch of sky opened and the water subtly reflected the blue beyond. From early morning to 8 a.m., I witnessed the colours slowly coming back by 9.30 am. It was fascinating.” There is an unbelievable stillness to many of these images, in the whirr of the bee-eaters’ wings or the cloudy fluff of marshy reeds, as if the wind has been stopped. Karthik’s art is not just about capturing the decisive moment; it is also about imagining it precisely as it should appear to view, thus preserving that moment with its inherent tonalities.
(Chennai Canvas links art to design and culture through an inside look at the city)
