In one photograph included in Shakuntala Kulkarni's "Of Bodies, Armour and Cages" installation at the 58th International Art Exhibition, in Venice (until 24th November), the artist is portrayed standing with a sculptural pose on a sort of plinth, looking like a statue or a benevolent goddess; in another she is posing on the roof of a building like a super heroine ready to fly above the city surrounding her.
In both the images Kulkarni is wearing rather peculiar attires, cane armours complete with accessories such as helmets, arm and leg protections.
The pieces were developed around ten years ago when the Indian artist started thinking about new ways to approach sensitive themes in her work and in particular the violation of women's bodies and spaces.
Kulkarni followed rape cases in India and she felt compelled to address the issue of women living in fear and under threat, and being unsafe in public and domestic spaces.
Looking for ways to protect the female body, Kulkarni designed and developed a series of complex armours made with cane, a resilient yet flexible material, but she soon realised that there was a dichotomy behind her work - armours had to protect the body, but they also seemed to constrict and confine it.
Indeed, the decorative elements of the cane armours, their intricate swirls and feminine puffy sleeves didn't guarantee any freedom, but turned into a form of punishment and entrapment. By wearing them in everyday situations around Mumbai, Kulkarni addressed therefore a series of issues, from the condition of urban women living within patriarchal societal structures to pain, claustrophobia and alienation.
The more she went around Mumbai in her armours, the more Kulkarni realised she wasn't just reclaiming spaces for women, but also for the entire city.
She was indeed guarding the heritage of a city and of its buildings, opposing the invasion of cultural and historical spaces.
Kulkarni's installation - featuring plenty of accessories and two armours (one of them displaying some links in its construction with the skirt frame of Manipuri dancers) - is part of the India Pavilion at the Venice Art Biennale. The pavilion features an extensive collective exhibition with 8 artists presenting works celebrating the 150th birth anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi.
There is a link between Gandhi's spinning cotton yarn and Kulkarni's installation: the artist combines in her work urban life with rural artisan skills. Her armours are indeed made by weaving natural cane and to make them she worked with a cane craftsman and a weaver from a village in Assam.
None of them had ever made cane sculptures and the process was symbolic as it dissolved socio-economic disparities and artistic hierarchies, creating a common ground and a space for collaboration, symbolising a return to indigenous crafts and age-old artisan skils.
What's the main aim of your armours?
Shakuntala Kulkarni: Through my works and my protective costumes I'm addressing the violation of women's spaces and in particular violence on the female body. When I started thinking about the theme of protection, I wondered what kind of materials I could have used and in which ways I could have protected the body. I've always been fascinated by armours and in any museum I ever visited there were always armours, so I naturally thought about them. Armours are usually beautifully done, they are works of art if you think about the materials used, the way they are assembled or the way the joints are made. But men's armours usually look strong as they were made for men to fight in a battle. I wanted to create instead armours for the female body and I didn't want my armours to look masculine, but to be grand and magnificent, because they should have celebrated the female body. So I started searching for a material that would have provided me with some kind of balance between strength and vulnerability.
Is that the reason why you opted for cane?
Shakuntala Kulkarni: Yes, I settled down with cane because it is very organic, it is very tenacious and strong, but also very linear and delicate. When you heat it, cane twists and turns and I liked all these qualities. The real challenge was that I had never worked with cane before. As an artist I started with painting and then I went on to do other things like creating walking sculptures, making videos and performances, but I had never used cane before. So I started experimenting with a person who isn't an artist, but a cane chair repairman.
Which were the main challenges you went through while working with cane?
Shakuntala Kulkarni: It took me a long time to find the right person who could collaborate with me. For almost a year I failed and had to start all over again. When I found the proper craftsman, I tried to get to know his language and culture to get into his world. You see, in India, we have different languages and cultures and for me communicating with people is important. My work is not about the production, but about communication, conversation, negotiation, so there was a lot of background research to do for this project. In the end things worked pretty well as the cane craftsman was really fantastic, because he was actually more than an artist and introduced some innovations as well. He managed to convert my pencil drawings into cane sculptures, and this involved a lot of experimenting as we had to technically adapt and alter quite a few things.
Some of the armours seem to be inspired by Haute Couture silhouettes: were you looking at fashion while designing them?
Shakuntala Kulkarni: I tried to come up with elaborate dresses, because I wanted to dress the body in something beautiful. The shapes and silhouettes are not inspired by a particular fashion, even though there are echoes of Indian skirts and ancient Roman helmets. In the headgear there is also my fascination with Bollywood hairstyles and there are links with the power and meaning of masks. But I tried to combine different styles together as I do not believe in one nationality or in a particular religion, but I believe in humanity. I felt that working in this way was very interesting, as it gave me a lot of scope to experiment and try out different things. By mixing various styles I felt I brought all the world together. Last but not least, the styles of the armours also incorporate my own memories as some elements and inspirations were borrowed from my children's wardrobe and from garments like my son's first dungarees. So I did a research through costume history, but also through personal memories.
Do you feel that, for their shapes and silhouettes, your armours also have connections with the Bauhaus and in particular with the costumes in Oskar Schlemmer's "Triadisches Ballett" (Triadic Ballet)?
Shakuntala Kulkarni: The armours do have a connection with architecture, because they are walking sculpture, but they are also linked with ballet, dance, moving, exercising and yoga. My family's background is in theatre and film, so, even though I'm trained as an artist, I grew up as part of the performing world. I actually did also performances with the armours.
There seems to be a duplicity behind the armours as they dress and protect the female body, but they also seem to trap it: is confinement another theme of your project?
Shakuntala Kulkarni: Yes, it is. When you prepare to wear the pieces you feel a bit like a princess getting ready for a ceremony, you dress up slowly and you decorate your body with the costume and with all its accessories - the rings, bangles and headgear. So there the pieces adorn, respect and celebrate your body. Yet, when I was wearing the armours day in and day out and performing, I found that, while the costumes were meant for protection, my body was getting trapped as well. Because of the way I designed the structures, the arms of the wearer do not move easily, you can for example only move them forward or your neck will get caught. You also have to walk sideways while wearing some of these costumes, so also your legs are confined. I purposefully tried to make things uncomfortable to represent how unsafe and difficult it is to navigate through private and public spaces for women and how self-expression gets limited.
Your installation at the Venice Biennale features both your armours and pictures portraying you posing in urban environments in your cane outfits: where were the pictures taken and do you feel that this project has also some connections with architecture?
Shakuntala Kulkarni: Once the armours were finished I put them on and did a photographic project in the city of Mumbai, where I live. I chose it as the set for this shoot because there's so much ruthless planning going on there. There are a lot of new buildings coming up and a lot of heritage buildings are being destroyed. This means we are losing the culture and the heritage we are proud of, and in this way children won't know the history of the place. For example, in Mumbai we were very famous for cotton mills, but most of them are gone now. The land was sold and the mills were destroyed to give way to other buildings. I heard that some of the old buildings may be replaced by malls and, while there are people who have organisations against this new urban developments, the authorities will still get on with the plans and will do anything they want once you elect them. Through the pictures I wanted to address all these issues and remind people that, with high rises being built without sensible planning, we won't be able to see the blue sky anymore and the views on our beaches, among the few public spaces left in Mumbai, will be blocked. By wearing the armours in such environments, I'm reclaiming the spaces to protect history and culture, to protest and resist. So in a way the armours have got multiple meanings and purposes, you can use them to protest against the violation of women's bodies, but you can also conceive them as tools to look at issues such as entrapment and confinement, or as costumes to reclaim your space.
Did you ever feel vulnerable while walking around Mumbai in your armours?
Shakuntala Kulkarni: Power is just one theme of the project, vulnerability another. I'm definitely addressing the vulnerability as in my project I talk about deflecting the gaze, but, when I walk in the streets in my armours, I invite the gaze. At that moment I become vulnerable, because hundreds of people are staring at me. So, yes, there is definitely a sort of balance between feeling powerful and becoming vulnerable in this project.