A few months ago, well-known sculptor K.S. Radhakrishnan attended a one-of-its-kind sculpture symposium in Narendrapur village, in Bihar’s Siwan district. Organised on the campus of Parivartan, an integrated rural community development initiative of the Takshashila Educational Society, the two-week long symposium gave ten sculptors (seven from India and three from abroad) the opportunity to interact with rural audiences and create a sculpture of their own at the Parivartan art centre.
Radhakrishnan’s bronze work Ephemera, which will form part of the centre’s collection in Patna, is being exhibited at the Art Multi-disciplines Gallery in Kolkata. The work is on view till March 1.
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An unusual show of one of India’s most prominent sculptors, K.S. Radhakrishnan, opened last month at the Art Multi-disciplines Gallery, Kolkata. While the sculptor has had major solo shows in Kolkata in the past, this exhibition stands out because it goes beyond being a one-man show – Ephemera is a one-exhibit show being displayed in a one-room gallery, which is no bigger than 16 feet by 14 feet.
Artist at work: K.S Radhakrishnan. Credit: Jawahar Roy
The setting is stark and dramatic – the walls of the room have been painted black, and the lighting is minimal. No other works by the artist vie for your attention; the atmosphere inside the gallery is cleansed of all distractions. The black walls envelop the bronze sculpture in shades of pregnant darkness that not only helps isolate the work of art but also amplifies the space and scope within which it operates.
On a ramp eight feet long and four feet wide, are five boats – it seems as if they are being tossed around by a formidable yet inconspicuous force. While some of the boats remain partially submerged, others struggle to sail. From within these boats, tiny figures spring up. As they interlock limbs, their tangled bodies spiral out, up and beyond the boats themselves. A bright yellow lamp – fixed on a dark pole, near the high end of the ramp – shines unblinkingly on the scene below from above the viewer’s head. The chequered texture of the ramp shimmers golden, and the shadows of little figures dance.
At a very basic level, it appears to be a work that addresses issues of mass migration, like many a sculpture by the artist in the last few years. It is, however, the underlying ambiguity of this familiar narrative that takes the viewer by surprise and distinguishes Ephemera.
From as early as 2004, Radhakrishnan has been engaging with ramps in his works, not only as a formal structure but also as a structural trope, or motif, which adds expressive and conceptual depth to his figures.
However, unlike his other larger ramps, where sculpted figures march towards the top to gain a better view and a fuller sense of their situation, in this work the masses are denied sublime station.
In contrast, in Ephemera, the tiny figures are not climbing the ramp; they are on a slippery slope. As they drift down the sea on their precarious boats, their trajectory appears to be less optimistic, and more tragic. Nonetheless, tragedy is not the essence of this work.
By depicting the cataclysm as a slow-moving stream and by magnifying the human effort, Radhakrishnan subtly suffuses the familiar narrative of hopelessness with a rather enigmatic empathy. The miniscule drifters at sea are blown up; they hold hands as they spiral into fierce whirlwinds.
In the midst of such fury, it is the human spirit which dominates the scene rather than the violent waves. This compassionate glance, even if ephemeral, allows in art a moment where the misfortuned masses and the viewers celebrate solidarity and hope.
Sculptor K.S. Radhakrishnan (right) with Swarup Bhattacharya, curator of the Boat Museum, located in Kolkata. Credit: Jawahar Roy
However, what is interesting is that the ageless humans without gender move towards the metaphor of hope, but away from the physical manifestation of it – the light mounted near the top of the ramp. By not putting the light at the bottom of the ramp and making it a slippery slope, Radhakrishnan circumvents the certitude of imageries like “the light at the end of the tunnel”, where hope is defined, and realised, in terms of a clear destination.
But in this work, as the light of the bulb is thrown to a point where it dissolves into darkness and misgivings, the contours of hope are drawn along the fringe. The light thus guides and aids but doesn’t necessarily guarantee a safe passage.
Tossed between hope and despair, even as human endeavour looms larger than tidal waves, nothing is taken for granted in Radhakrishnan’s Ephemera – nothing can be it seems to suggest. It is the ephemerality of it all that makes his sculpture tick.
Siddharth Sivakumar has studied English literature and writes regularly on visual art and culture for print and online publications.