Framing Urban Landscapes at the Chennai Photo Biennale

As our urban landscapes continuously undergo transformations, can art help reconcile what we lose in the process? Artists at the Chennai Photo Biennale turn their gaze towards and into their urban environments to capture the weaving of memory, humour, intimacy, culture and belonging. Debasish Mukherjee dialogues memory with the geometrics of urban architecture in his attempts to portray the essence of an ever-evolving urban landscape in The Architecture of Remembrance. Through Indianisms, Prashant Panjiar highlights a visual vernacular language displaying quirks, idiosyncrasies and inventiveness peculiar to Indian life. Madras Margazhi sees Amar Ramesh shift the setting of Carnatic music into the open city to celebrate Chennai’s cultural legacy. Farheen Fatima marries stunning portraits to digital drawings in Meet Me In The Garden to reflect upon the emotional bond between people and nature in spaces that offer refuge from the hustle of city life.

Vishal George (VG): How do you locate the essence of the city in your artworks and can art play a role in its conservation? How does the stunning geometricity of your artworks help represent our transforming urban landscapes?

Debasish Mukherjee: In my work, I seek the essence of the city not just in its physical structures but in the intangible, lived experiences that unfold within it. Whether in the ancient streets of Benares or the rich wall murals of Ladakh, the city's heartbeat lies in the rhythms of its people. As cities evolve over time, they shed layers of history, and my work aims to capture those fleeting moments, forgotten stories and subtle traces of time that go unnoticed. In the face of rapid, often unplanned urban development, my practice becomes a tool to preserve the fading layers of memory. My work serves as a bridge between what was and what is to come, a way to honour the past while acknowledging inevitable change, and attempts to conserve the essence of a city before it is lost to transformation and modernisation.   

The nostalgia permeating my work reflects not only personal memories but also collective cultural memories of places and communities that are disappearing. Capturing these spaces helps document the loss of heritage and highlight the importance of remembering where we come from to inform where we are going. Memory is a way of grounding us in an ever-changing urban culture, serving as a reminder that our past has shaped the present and, in turn, the present will shape the future. My work, thus, becomes a dialogue between memory and progress, ensuring that the stories of the city and its people continue to be felt, even as the landscape evolves beyond recognition.

The geometricity in my work reflects the fundamental structure and order that underpins the urban landscape. It serves as a metaphor for the way life in the city is organised, both seen and unseen. Each shape embodies a piece of the city’s pulse, symbolising the constant motion and transformation of urban life. While cities are often perceived as chaotic or sprawling, beneath this apparent disorder lies a grid—a system of roads, buildings and pathways that structure daily life. The geometric forms I employ in my work echo this invisible order, creating a visual language that represents not only the intersections and blocks but also the boundaries and connections that define the city. 

Through these forms, I attempt to distil the complexity of the city into something structured yet dynamic, much like the city itself, which remains in a perpetual state of flux. These shapes speak to the mix of old and new elements that co-exist in any urban space, where modernity constantly interacts with the historical and the traditional. In this way, my work reflects the intricate balance between permanence and change, offering a glimpse into the underlying harmony that holds the urban space together amidst constant transformation.

VG: Quirkiness, ironic incongruities and idiosyncrasies highlight your definition of the shared visual vernacular language you refer to as “Indianisms.” These visual experiences, which ubiquitously adorn our environment, arrest us from the daily routine of city life. What are the peculiarities common to the various cities featured in your project that make them Indian? How does this add to the character of our cities and help us look beyond monolithic definitions of Indian culture?

Prashant Panjiar: I would like to add another ‘I-’ to the definition of “Indianisms,” which would be inventiveness. This inventiveness helps define our cities. Since I started going through my old archives and realised I would take up this project, I did not want to use photographs where there was a deliberate attempt at humour. Though images from 1995, even 2003 and 2005 are part of the series, this project took shape from 2011 onwards—once I got a camera to shoot in square format. I was drawn by the vibrant colours that dominate this visual vernacular language we share across our overgrown cities. Everyday objects, in conjunction with public imagery, are used quirkily and inventively. We will find our own ways to make things work; hence, this shared characteristic tends us towards jugaad (improvisation). What I aim to express through this project is our flippant attitude towards the usage of imagery that belongs to the public domain and our ability to not take ourselves seriously. This is where I would locate an Indian-ness that is shared across the cities of the country. I also found differences in cities, moving from the South to the North, in terms of expression in visual language. The cities in the South are a goldmine for Indianisms due to the abundant use of colours.                                                                         

Indianisms greatly add to the character of our cities and shape our approaches to the chaos of life. We should celebrate this capacity to laugh at ourselves. This project brings attention to the diverse ways in which we operate and express ourselves. The strong discourse on nationhood in the current political climate is trying to construct a uniform idea of India and what it means to be Indian. Even architecturally, urban development is brutally done in a way where the state can authoritatively exude its power over the inhabitants of the city. I wanted to take power back to the individuals—by indicating the various methods we deploy to survive. Enduring the city’s hardships requires a lot of strength on the part of individuals, and yet, we are also able to squeeze out a certain joy. I hope to inspire a positive outlook on ourselves, our surroundings and our daily routines in city life by encouraging a closer look at the mundane. These visual experiences would appear bizarre to a person coming from abroad. However, this is a language we are familiar with and can easily understand due to shared contexts. The phrases that define this project and also us Indians the best are “Don’t mind” and “We are like this only!”

VG: How did bringing Carnatic musicians into open public spaces with famous landmarks as backdrops change your cultural experience of the Margazhi season? What idea does Madras hold for you? As the city develops further into Chennai, what is the essence of your home that you look to celebrate?

Amar Ramesh: We have always witnessed these musicians with black backgrounds or in front of LED TVs. I was tired of this view and wanted to reimagine the experience of Carnatic music and put these wonderful musicians in iconic spots throughout the city. These spaces give you the right atmosphere, great acoustics and intrinsic sound effects that add to the musical experience. For example, the sound of the waves made for a perfect accompaniment to the music in the shoot done on the beach. Bystanders and passersby were often captivated by this display of culture. These star musicians are not as easily identifiable as cinema stars, so we would face little disturbance during shoots. Fans would eventually find out, gather and come to talk and take photos. It was an amazing experience to see and hear this music out of the confines of the traditional sabhas (assemblies) and in open public spaces of the city.

Carnatic music is intertwined with the culture of the city. We all grew up listening to these songs playing everywhere around us—through our parents, our temples, our institutions, etc., and they are very much imprinted in our collective memory. This project deepened my cultural connection with the city. These stunning locations, with their crazy natural lighting, made for a perfect setting. The experience of listening to this music in its pure, unadulterated form without any sound systems or microphones was magical. Music infused these spaces with culture and life. To reimagine these spaces as places of performance greatly enhanced my cultural experience of Carnatic music.

Madras is a unique place with thousands of years of indigenous culture juxtaposed against colonial influence as well as the contemporary rise of art deco joints. The existence of a thousand years of Mylapore tradition alongside the red buildings left behind by the British makes for a very interesting mix. Old buildings are coming down while high rises are coming up. Residential buildings are making way for commercial complexes. The flavour of the city is shifting, which was another reason why I had to do this project. I wanted to capture and showcase the charm and flavour of the Madras I grew up in, and that we are all losing very quickly. Through Madras Margazhi, I look to celebrate my home and the culture that belongs to it.

VG: What themes emerged in the process of capturing relationships between people and the green spaces dotting our urban landscapes in Meet Me In The Garden? How does the refuge and freedom provided by the public spaces of gardens help us introspect within, explore human relationships and forge a deeper bond with the city?

Farheen Fatima: The series began with me just walking and wandering through the gardens of Chandigarh. I have always been drawn to the quiet rituals that unfold in public places. What attracts me to my surroundings is watching how people move through these spaces, how they pause and how they return. The way a city and its public spaces holds its people—their memory, solitude and companionship. Thus, emerged the project. What fascinates me are the ways in which people carve out small personal worlds in a vast open space. The grid-like structure and carefully designed landscapes of Chandigarh allow for this. Gardens are not just decorative. They are spaces of belonging. In capturing them, I wanted to show how people forge relationships with the city. Repeatedly returning to the same tree, same bench or same patch of grass builds history. These spaces hold memories, both fleeting and permanent.

What draws me to gardens is the way they allow us to just be. It holds no expectations—one does not need to put on a performance either. The gardens of Chandigarh have always felt like these soft breathing spaces where time slows down. You can step outside the rush of life for a moment. Even though gardens continuously change with the season and are like living, breathing entities unto themselves. They not only offer the respite and meditation that come with solitude but are also deeply social spaces. A space to interact with different people. A space to interact with your loved ones. A space to see the whole kaleidoscope surrounding you. Gardens provide the freedom for intimacy to flourish with abandon, the building of relationships and friendships.

People return to the same tree every day as if it knows them and listens to them. There is something deeply human about the way we forge connections with not only each other but also landscapes and places. In an urban area, we are always navigating through structures designed to keep us in motion and to cater to our highly demanding work life. In a garden, you can stop, sit and breathe. In that stillness, something shifts, and you start seeing the city differently. You stop merely living in the city and you start to belong to it. And in some quiet way, it starts to belong to you too. This strong sense of belongingness inspired Meet Me In The Garden.

To learn more about the fourth edition of the Chennai Photo Biennale, read Vishal George’s short interviews with artists whose practices explore the theme of labour, Anoushka Antonnette Mathews' short interviews with artists whose practices explore themes of mental health and neurodivergence and with artists whose practices explore themes of bodies and landscapes, Upasana Das’ short interviews with artists and practitioners exploring forms of community building and with artists whose practices explore themes of power and representation, Kshiraja’s short interviews with artists whose practices explore themes of landscape and history and with artists whose practices explore themes of myth, ritual and identity, as well as Mallika Visvanathan’s short interviews with the curators of the primary shows.