Art Home and Away: A look at the Past and Present of my Artistic Development

This week, inspired by National Public Radio’s This I Believe program, I will be writing a more personal post, focusing on the core values and beliefs that guide my daily life as well as my chosen profession.

Some years ago, a friend asked me why I was not seeking financial security and going into the family business. “And what business would that be,” I asked laughingly, “that of the Town Sage?” My father was, indeed, the Sage of his town. I remember walking with him in the streets. He had such presence that everyone who passed him could not help but turn around for a second look. We would walk to the baker’s and an old man or a young doctor or a new father would hold his hand and ask him to converse awhile, to hear their troubles. He always did, and always knew what to say, how to ease people’s pain, how to give them hope, how to jolt them out of their paralysis. I remember once he took me to visit a man who had just lost his young son. The grieving father, surrounded by friends and family, wept as though he was determined to weep for as long as he lived. In fact, he had not stopped since the news of his son’s passing. When he looked into my father’s eyes, the pain of the world was in his own two black circles. My father sat before him and began to speak. As the man sobbed, the sage spoke of his own life, of all that he knew, all that he believed. He spoke and spoke until his voice was no longer drowned by the poor man’s sobs. When he finished, there wasn’t a tear amongst us all.

My father believed in the power of self-expression. And this I, too, believe. Though I spent most of my life without him, I was always aware that he was a revolutionary, a man who had sacrificed much of his life for the political well-being of his people. Watching him, I learned that the power to effectively express one’s beliefs and experience is the power to bring about change, to be active in a world marked with passivity. As Pablo Picasso explains, “art is an offensive and defensive weapon against the enemy.”

As a child of immigration, my artistic practice is, for me, the ultimate attempt at taking an active role in a life whose direction throughout my early youth was largely decided by states and politicians. In turning to the visual arts, I was in search of an underlying, common language to relay my own experience, while touching on specific facets of the contemporary human condition. As such, my work expresses a deep interest in the investigation and comprehension of space, both literal and metaphoric. In reality, it deals not only with space, but the spaces in between (created by everything from physical barriers to history and national borders,), thereby examining agents responsible for the formation and maintenance of a modern condition. I am drawn to themes concerning the earth in relation to humanity, and more specifically, humanity’s perceived conquest and division of the earth. In the past, I have explored these themes as a macrocosmic view of individual and state endeavors, often adopting specific political and societal practices as foundations for the creation of a body of work.

Each piece often carries with it a strong sense of local and global history, placing my use of the ephemeral in a larger context of time. In a recent exhibition (pictured here), for example, where 3000 lbs of salt recreate, on the gallery floor, a pseudo-topographical map of the continents inspired by satellite images of the Earth at night, the overwhelming spread of light, as well as its absence in select areas of the planet, are indicators of the patterns of human history. Similarly, the history of salt, while enmeshed with the Earth, is a history of civilizations. In its productive form (salt as currency, food and preservation), it is linked to notions of creation and rising nations, while in its destructive form (“salting the land”), it is a cruel force of destruction.

In my practice, I deal with issues such as migration, division and displacement not only on the level of global power structures (creating photographs that manipulate national borders or draw walls through imaginary landscapes) but also on a personal and sensual level (installations that deal with sense memory, nostalgia and movement). After all, as artist/choreographer Yvonne Rainer exclaims in reaction to the horror of media images of the Vietnam War in 1968, it is “the body that remains the enduring reality.” Politics enter my work in the same way that visual aesthetics do; they do so only when detrimental to the experience. I do not look for them. They are both natural derivatives of a particular personal relationship with the world. My aesthetic choices, I have found, are often fueled by my own cultural experience and draw on forms and images that have become moving to one people while enigmatic to others. I strive to present each specific issue as both an insider and an outsider, while conveying a bridge between the two. Each piece, then, functions, at once, esoterically, subconsciously, and exoterically and self-consciously. In that, my works are places for me both to speak and to search.

Art Taking on the Environment: Politicians Turn to the Efforts of Visual Artists to Help Shape Environmental Policies

Opening this month at the Hood Museum of Art in New Hampshire, Subhankar Banerjee’s exhibition, Resource Wars in the American Arctic, features four of his stunning and monumental photographs, captured during five years of travel through largely untouched regions in Northeastern Alaska. In 2002, Banerjee began his nearly four thousand miles journey through the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) in search of concrete evidence of plant and animal life in the 19.5-million-acre region. What began as an attempt by a Boeing scientist turned amateur photographer to study the ecological and cultural diversity of the ANWR soon “evolved into a visual exploration of the Arctic ’s connection to larger global issues such as resource wars, global warming, toxic migration and human rights struggles of the indigenous northern communities.” As such, Banerjee’s photographs have been the subject of critical and public acclaim, as well as condemnation from many politicians and institutions. According to Regina Hackett of the Seattle Post Intelligencer, in 2003 “the artist was horrified to find himself denounced in Congress and virtually abandoned by the Smithsonian's National Museum of History,” where his photographs were to be exhibited for the first time. Under pressure from Congress, the museum not only removed all captions, for they contained language that advocated no oil drilling in the refuge, but changed the location of the exhibition in an attempt to limit its viewing. Perhaps it was this very reaction that placed Banerjee’s work in the spotlight for which he had been hoping.

As politicians in favor of oil drilling in the region tried to paint a picture of the ANWR as a barren land devoid of life, Banerjee's photographs provided irrefutable evidence of the refuge's fragile and unmatched beauty and rich ecological diversity. A month before his opening at the Smithsonian, “during a Senate debate about drilling for gas and oil in the refuge, Sen. Barbara Boxer (D-CA) held up a Banerjee photo of a polar bear crossing a frozen harbor. This was a response to drilling advocates, who claimed there was nothing there but…‘a flat white nothingness,’ [or in the words of Alaska’s former Senator Frank Murkowsky,]…‘a frozen wasteland of snow and ice.’”

This is not the first time that the work of an artist has been brought to the Senate floor in order to help shape policy. Photography, in particular, has historically enjoyed a prominent place in the country’s legislature. In the late 19th century, for example, photographer William Henry Jackson (his work shown on the left) was commissioned to travel west as part of the U.S. Geological Survey. Upon his return, his photographs were presented to the U.S. Congress, and "on March 1, 1872 President Grant signed a bill making the region [that Jackson had been exploring] Yellowstone National Park.” Likewise, the works of photographic giants like Ansel Adams and Dorothea Lange were highly celebrated and influential in both houses. Banerjee, however, did not receive what Hackett calls the “warm Welcome” of his predecessors. It seems that there has been a grand shift in the workings of our legislative branch and our perception of photography since the time of William Henry Jackson. While in the past photographers were seen and respected as capturers of irrefutable truths, today, Alaska Senator Ted Stevens openly calls Banerjee and his supporters, such as Jimmy Carter, “liars,” publicly threatening them as well as his colleagues who voted against the ANWR drilling.

Thankfully, what Peter Brown of the Front-page news calls a “climate of intimidation” does not have a hold on all institutions around the world. Indeed, in many cases, artists are still viewed as agents of truth, esteemed by politicians and advocates who utilize their creative abilities as a means to deliver a message to a larger audience. It seems that, in recent years, art and environmental protection have formed a new and significant bond. In June of this year, in celebration of the annual UN World Environment Day, the Natural World Museum, in partnership with the UN Environment Program, the Norwegian Ministry of Environment and the Nobel Peace Center in Oslo, will present an exhibition of international contemporary artists, entitled Envisioning Change. According to an official press release by the UNEP website, the exhibit “is designed to generate awareness of global warming and climate change while inspiring positive change in people’s attitudes and actions toward the environment.” What is refreshing about the choice of the forty participating artists is that not all are known for their interest in environmental issues. While artists like Banerjee and David Nash (his Wooden Boulder featured on the right) are, of course, included, it is both surprising and intriguing to see such names as Mona Hatoum and Yoshiaki Kaihatsu on the list.

The artists in this exhibition are not merely documenting. They are utilizing all forms of expression, from abstraction to extrapolation, to create, to inform, and to claim a right to the preservation of their planet. Their efforts help secure the artistic community as a whole a unique place in the global fight to save our ecosystem. We are now at the threshold of a new era of environmental and political transformation, one in which we must take bold actions to generate international and interdisciplinary solutions to fight off the threats posed by our changing climate. The actions described above, though of great importance, are only tips of the iceberg.