Between Multiple Worlds

INSTALLATIONS. That, in one word, cannot give you the essence of what stole the show at the Ninth triennale. Flagged off in New Delhi this month, albeit without a reconstituted Lalit Kala Akademi, the exhibition was full of surprises. Packed with exhibits by artists from the world over, each striving to drive home a point, be it about pollution or everyday experiences, the endeavour was made possible by three months of toil by the special triennale cell. The works exhibited at three venues ranged from expressionist paintings to pop art to inventive installations.

A powerful assemblage titled 'World Between', conceptualised by Australian artist Simeon Nelson, a la the rites of passage between centuries, is in sync with the end of the millennium concern with decay and regeneration and man's own state within this. A moss-covered pool is enmeshed with plastic bags, rubber toys and other detritus from the streets of Delhi. The stillness of the green carpet is broken by the red and pink of the man-made objects evoking an intermingling of earth and blood. This is covered by algae from the river Yamuna, polluting and regenerating it simultaneously.

For Nelson, the circular tank of water taking on different odours and hues is regenerative in the Indian sense of cyclic time. Facing the pool a square billboard rises, on which forked branches of eucalyptus and gum trees are arranged in rows. As the matter decomposes, the branches seem to be receding and emerging in slow movement. Another billboard mandala at the side is a melange of colourful waste of bottles and cans. A crushed Campbell soup tin glitters in the midst, evoking Andy Warhol and the first reaction in art to consumerism.

Curator Felicity Fenner elaborates: "On one level, nature has been culturalised and culture has been naturalised in Nelson's work, the shifting equilibrium between the two defying dominance of either. Neither apocalyptic nor overly optimistic, 'World Between' reflects a prevailing mood of imminence: against all odds, the natural world supports the ravages of our civilisation."

ON entering Rabindra Bhawan, one is shell-shocked. Well, only literally, as you are struck by the sight of large sea shells which seem to be in the process of uncoiling. The grey and white ceramics with terracotta pink inside, crumbling at places, are sensually delightful to behold even as there is a feeling of decay and denudation. The artist, Machiko Ogawa, has created ceramic forms by beating clay around a circular coil, merging her own rich tradition with that of the African. In her work, the man-made is inextricably linked with the organic and it's difficult to say where one ends and the other begins.

Shiego Toya, on the other hand, uses wood, ash and acrylic to construct a log hut which seems like an outgrowth of vegetation. Gnarled trunks of trees support the open verandah. Glass frames in front hold tree stumps which are smeared with wood ash and white acrylic. Glancing down their craggy surfaces, one wonders what the frosted sediment on wood is. It seems, centuries have passed in growth and decay, and the fascinating process seems to be in constant metamorphosis.'From Borders III' is the interface between cultures, the ancient Jomon pre-Japanese system and western modernism, individualism and organic growth, decay and civilisation.

British artist Julian Opie's life-sized wooden blocks of a man, house, tree and animals can be walked through as if in a dream. From the wall rises a painting of a curved road which leads to this place which is oneself. Opie explains: "One of the few truly modern experiences is speed. Another is flying. Both provide a very different way of experiencing the world. Driving fast is cinematic, vision becomes fluid. Flying literally removes you from the world. You see your existence from the outside."

Among Opie's works, the installation of white grave stones outside the Economist building in London is most well-known. The dead person once stood upright, but now lies down with the grave stones standing in its place and reminding us of the uncanny resemblance between the two. He states that the shape of European housing apartments is similar to tombs: both are containers of people and are made of stone.

 The French artist Audry Liseron Monfils echoes the tomb in his large white box with himself as the installation. Only the upper lobe of his head peeps out of the box, which can be climbed by two ladders. The head, he says, is in outer space to record the comings and goings through experimental action. Polish artist Tomasz Domanski resorts to coconut-fibre, enthralled by its many uses in India, to make his artistic point.

 Yet another fascinating exhibit is 'Ganga Boat' which traverses different worlds, knitting them together in its voyage down the river. The brightly-painted wooden boat with gods from the Hindu pantheon bears the work of two German artists, Andrea Reksans and Stefan Vollrath. Last year, they set sail down the Ganges from Rishikesh, but their journey came to an abrupt halt when they were attacked by dacoits near Farukkabad. The couple was beaten and Andrea raped. But they survived to paint the boat and moor it at Rabindra Bhawan.

 The walls of the boat are lined with terracotta relics recording their journey like a logbook. A wry sense of humour comes across in a sketch depicting Andrea being ravaged by a crocodile. Post-triennale, the boat will be installed at the Triveni ghat, Rishikesh.

The installation 'Home' by the US-based Sonya Shah consists of brick structures denoting rooms and pathways with chairs placed within to denote life's experiences. She presents the random thoughts and frustrations that form the web of existence in the '90s. "Each home suggests the people living within, worrying about babies or loans." An engaging installation, which like the others, brings us crashing down to reality.