An eclectic collection of artwork on display at the College of Fine Arts’ annual show in Thiruvananthapuram

Chandan Gour with his art work, Prathibimb, at SEE, annual show at College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram
| Photo Credit: SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

One of the first characters you meet at SEE is a terracotta sculpture by Ebin PR. Clothes wrinkled, the man sits listlessly in his chair. As you face him, you get the sense that you are blocking his view. His gaze is more intense than yours. SEE, the annual show presented by the students and faculty of the College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram, leaves you hanging.

Ebin PR’s untitled work at SEE, annual show at College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram
| Photo Credit:
Nandana Nair

Perhaps the charm of the show is its unwillingness to decode itself for the viewer. Many of the pieces, over 235 of them, are untitled. There is little to no explanation of content or context beyond a note with the artist’s name and the medium; the piece speaks for itself. The artwork is curious, disquieting, and altogether fantastic.

Works on display at SEE, annual show at College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram
| Photo Credit:
Nandana Nair

In one room, a terracotta head swivels to greet you. “I’m very self-obsessed,” says artist Chandan Gour lightly. “These are all self-portraits from my childhood.” He is talking about a collection of six life-size figures in various stages of completion and damage. The figure at the centre has a rotating head. Hailing from a family of artisans, his project continues its tradition while incorporating modern elements. There is a curious seventh piece next to these figures — a pile of broken limbs and terracotta shards. “It was a figure like the rest which was broken during the show. I decided to keep it. It’s still a part of the work. Besides, a lot of sculptures in historic sites and museums are broken.”

A.M Agenda by Sandra Thomas 
| Photo Credit:
Nandana Nair

Sandra Thomas, who creates paper sculptures, also leans into the fragility of her work. Her piece, AM Agenda, features a life-size model of a rubber plantation worker and his dog. At first glance, it is impossible to not mistake it for an actual person. “Most sculptures are made of heavier materials. Made of a lightweight object like paper, the longevity of this sculpture is in question. It is a temporary piece,” she says. The focus of her art is on the everyday moments of working-class people.

Everyday life also finds its place in Eswar D’s art. Bent out of shape, a large granite key lies at the centre of his piece. The key is surrounded by plaster feet. “I wanted to depict how a mundane object like a key becomes central to your life. Even if it is old and battered, its absence makes you anxious. You walk around the house, looking for it.” It tells us how the person, represented through the plaster feet, is more fragile than the dependable granite of the key.

Key, an art work by Eswar D on display at SEE at College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram
| Photo Credit:
Nandana Nair

The technicolour world of Athul KP’s work illustrates a lack of control. “It is about the tangled experiences of life when you know what you should do but cannot. Sometimes, things just don’t move the way you want them to.” He uses a mix of acrylics and oil paints to recreate suffocation akin to a nightmare. The abstract nature of his work prioritises intensity of experience over literality.

Athul KP’s untitled work at SEE, annual show at College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram
| Photo Credit:
Nandana Nair

Personal experience shapes art even in Rahul Buski’s work. “There is a violence to my art,” he says. Thalum thakraum represents Adivasi’s life through unique brushstrokes and dark hues. The violence that the Adivasi community faces is an undercurrent in all his works. If you look closely, you will notice that varambu — the ridges used to designate boundaries in fields — are a common feature in his art. In Rahul’s works, they are an ever-present reminder of the partitions in society. “It takes time to learn about yourself; your family, your education, your clothes, your food, your place in society.”

Rahul Buski’s work at SEE, annual show at College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram
| Photo Credit:
Nandana Nair

Elsewhere, a wooden owl hangs on its white satin wings. Arun PV shares his affinity for wildlife through his art. “You can see your experiences in the peculiarities of animals. When you connect with them, you find ways to see human problems through them.” Through the barn owl piece, he wanted to recreate the silent nature of its flight by using a compliant material for its wings.

The exhibition puts the spotlight on the commonplace, reimagining it with fresh eyes. Maheswari MN’s Bus brings the familiar image of a crowded bus to life. Charcoal is used to depict a sea of people jostling to climb through the narrow space of the bus door. Adithyan S Kumar, on the other hand, focuses on migrant labourers in the city. Taking inspiration from his surroundings, he portrays the workers in vibrant colours. Instead of following a realistic colour palette, he uses paint to depict emotion.

Nithin Das’ You Are Under Surveillance is an experience in its own right. A black curtain gives way to a dark room, lit by strange glowing images. An occasional startling sound emanates from a corner. Upon investigation with a flashlight, it is revealed to be a rotating blue sculpture, tapping away. The rest of the room is just as eerie. The luminescent images linger in the space between human and non-human. A caution tape bars the last image—’You are under surveillance’ the message beneath informs you. Indeed, there is the blinking red of a camera in the corner of the room. The intriguing piece is as much about revealing as it is about concealing.

Shajith RB’s work Wiping out at SEE, annual show at College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram
| Photo Credit:
Nandana Nair

The verdant landscape of Shajith RB’s Wiping Out is breathtaking. Raised in rural Kannur, his art captures the anxiety of losing the lush greenery of his childhood to exploitation. In the ever-changing landscape of Malabar, his art is a homage to nostalgia. Pointing to the three houses hidden in the greenery of his painting, he says, “These are the homes I was raised in. We’re an increasingly individualised society. The houses are a reminder that we are not meant to be alone; we all need community.”

Shajith also speaks about the significance of the annual show in times of Artificial Intelligence. “Artists need to be treated with dignity. There is value in the work we do here,” he says.

SEE is on at the College of Fine Arts till December 31, from 10am to 8pm.