Urban India at home on a wall

THIRD EYE

Yet, upon peering closer, one observes a distinct constellation of objects in each image that separates one from the other. In one, a collection of handbags, in another, a Hannah Montana school bag and chappals, jhadoo (broom), and a bed sheet in yet another. Faux flowers enliven one while a shrine of garlanded images of gods and goddesses grace the other.

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These images, seemingly attempting to preserve a wall in photographic posterity, are actually thoughtful meditations on street homes in Indian urban spaces by French photographer Anne Maniglier. “I was in Ahmedabad (Gujarat) in December 2008 conducting a photo-journalism workshop at the National Institute of Design when I first encountered these ‘homes’ on the walls of a prestigious institution,” Maniglier recounts. The wall was “ornamented” with strings on which were hung pieces of clothing and furniture. “What at first glance seemed as a humble form of a market, turned out to be ‘homes’ of hundreds of homeless people,” she recounts.
Maniglier was drawn to the unusual homes and she took to photographing them over a period of two years, between 2008 and 2010. Notably, of course, their inhabitants are absent from the frames. And this is largely due to the fact that Maniglier captured these ‘homes’ at a time when their occupants were away at work; in some cases, even if they were present, she consciously excluded them from the frame. Nevertheless, the images capture in different ways the phantom residents of the home: The objects in the images both constitute and demarcate the domestic space while becoming emblems of their owners' lives.

For Maniglier, who has extensively photographed performers at work earlier - basically a world full of motion, activity and expression - these images are undeniably static in comparison and one wonders whether for her the objects in the photographs ultimately do end up playing the role of ‘performers’. Says Maniglier, “Yes, they (objects) are performing; they are part of the scenery. Of course, one cannot compare this photography to the way I photograph dance; however, the picture is a set as well. She adds, “I like to play with what I see. It is a crazy combination of leaving things as they are and attempting to metamorphose them at the same time.”

Maniglier was also particularly interested in the re-definition and re-interpretation of what a home represents. Despite their inherently fragile, ephemeral nature, the homes featured still exude a sense of a domestic space, albeit peculiar to their particular context.

“I feel that homes in India are much more grounded; the family structures are really strong and I feel that the homes are conveying this through the material objects,” believes Maniglier.

Apart from the social significance of homes, the photographer also interrogates the notion of a two-dimensional home, rather than the traditional three-dimensional one. “As opposed to the common concept of a house as a closed box, here, people live in one big horizontal line in the public sphere. I was drawn to the geometrical aspect of this surrounding - a horizontality without horizon, an overlapping desolation that managed to portray intimacy (whilst being) exposed to the public eye,” she explains.
Another aspect that fascinated her was the role that privacy played in these homes. While homes often evoke associations of being intimate sacred spaces in this context, the notion of privacy does not, or rather cannot, exist. These houses are on public display permanently, so to speak. “I feel that the terms, intimacy/privacy operate on different levels in India; people are always looking at each other over here, for instance,” she opines.

Furthermore, Maniglier also feels that people in India have accepted these public homes as a part of their visual urbanscape. “In Europe, we are trying to hide so much more,” she says.

Recently on display in Mumbai, a city where people don't even give a second glance to these public homes that have sprung up all over, Maniglier's work received curious feedback. “Many came up to me asking whether I had staged the objects!” she remarks. “It is always a surprise when you present your finished work - the viewers are really creative in their questions and feedback.”

A woman of few words, Maniglier finds it best to let her pictures do all the talking. “If I wanted to explain, I would have been a writer; for me, photography is the silent reflection of my statement.”

What she was concerned about was that her work is not be perceived as a poverty narrative seen through the lens of a foreigner. “I did not want people to think that I am offering a critique of their country or of the situation of millions of people living in such a fashion; this is not what I was trying to do,” she strongly emphasises. These images convey fragility and solidity in equal yet contradictory doses; the solidity of the idea of a home no matter how fragile it’s physical structure and existence.

Yet, the truth remains that the fear and insecurity of losing one’s home is a universal one, differing only in its manifestations around the world. In the end, a home is a home, no matter how fragile or secure.