Seeing the bigger picture through photographs and film
Liz Fernando, a German of Sri Lankan descent, is an award-winning artist and photographer. She holds a degree from the prestigious LCC photography programme at the University of Arts, London. So authentic is her published work “Trincomalee – My father’s stories and the lost photographs” that it has found its way into the permanent private collection of the World Bank Headquarters in Washington D.C.
A still from ‘The Imprint of LF’ by Rehan Mudannayake: Camera lingers on a bed
This young and highly motivated artist is currently exploring a range of social and psychological issues in non-western cultures, with emphasis on the role of photography in South Asia. Liz Fernando, who exhibited her earlier work at the Tate Modern, premiered her latest work, ‘The Imprint of Lovers,’ at the Brunei Gallery in London/UK from October-December 2014. The South Asian premiere was held at the Theertha Red Dot Gallery, Colombo from March 3-31, 2015. On selected days, the exhibition was combined with a power-point presentation by the artist followed by a short film that explores her current work – directed, produced, shot and edited by Rehan Mudannayake, who has a promising future ahead of him.
This was Liz Fernando’s first solo exhibition in Sri Lanka. It was unconventional in the sense that it was held in the small but arty premises of the Theertha Red Dot Gallery and had only half a dozen colour photos. But each was a gem. The images (imprinted on Hahnemühle fine art paper using an archival inkjet printer) were large and of exceptionally high quality. They were stark and minimalist, with each constituting an integral part of ‘The Imprint of Lovers’ – the central theme of her current research project.
Liz Fernando
To quote the artist: “The ‘Imprint of Lovers’ is a personal reflection on the perception of sexuality in a South-Asian context. This piece of work looks into the understanding of intimate emotions of young lovers, who are often faced with no choice but to meet in an extremely impersonal space, specifically a budget hotel room that can be rented by the hour. The thought is not unheard of, and lovers are well aware of it as they even risk the possibility of arbitrary police raids.”
In my view, her exhibition is deceptively simple in that there is far more depth and substance to it than meets the eye, for example, the interplay of light and shadow, the manipulation of space, the use of angles, edges and corners to create unusual aesthetic effects, and the focus on specific “objects” as psychoanalytic symbols. The photos are highly artistic, but in order to be fully appreciated, they need to be viewed in the context of the overall theme. Each is loaded with a compelling sub-text cutting across overlapping social and psychological themes. Unless one is tuned into the nature of the specific project which has yielded these images, one may not fully grasp their deeper meaning. They are the products of a serious social inquiry and accordingly need to be viewed in terms of their artistic value as well as their intellectual content. Only then do we see the bigger picture. Liz Fernando undoubtedly belongs to a rare breed of photographers who are ahead of their time. It is not surprising therefore that ‘The Imprints of Lovers’ was exceptionally well received in London.
Rehan Mudannayake’s film ‘The Imprint of L.F.’ could be viewed as a compelling social commentary on the perception of sexuality in a Sri
Rehan Mudannayake. Pic by Ali Niyaz
Lankan context. It is filmed in “spaces” (random hotel rooms rented by the hour in various parts of Colombo) where lovers meet, which are raided by the police from time to time. If caught, they could end up in jail, a risk they are willing to take. One such hotel (fairly decent) is located on a well-known coastal strip, while another (not so decent) is located in what appears to be a shabby part of town.
As Liz Fernando (the film’s narrator) explains, on average, a couple pays about Rs 1,500 per hour for a room which, given their low-income status, is a lot of money. Through her narrative (from a female perspective), she gives us an idea of the kinds of fears and anxieties faced by these couples in a conservative society, such as Sri Lanka, where pre-marital sex is taboo and the police come down hard on “offenders.” The price of intimacy considering the monetary as well as non-monetary constraints (such as pervasive social and moral strictures) is indeed high. Even though no young couples are interviewed, the film succeeds eminently in providing, through a judicious mix of perceptive narrative and haunting visual imagery, an understanding of their intimate feelings and emotions.
The documentary substitutes the monotonous hum of a moving train and other street sounds for music so as to create the right mood and atmosphere – a style reminiscent of Antonioni. There are some fine chiaroscuro effects as well that give the film a strong aesthetic flavour. Close-ups alternate with long shots of the narrator, and from time to time, the camera lingers on “objects” (a bed, a fan, a flower vase, a fluttering window curtain, a door latch, an ash tray, a mirror, a light bulb, a window, a train whizzing past) so as to provide a contextual backdrop to the narrative, which comes in short bursts. Each of these objects symbolizes a particular situation or scenario that the narrator is describing. At times the camera angles are oblique, thereby heightening the sense of unease that pervades the film from beginning to end. How can the young lovers relax, one wonders, when there could be a rude knock on the door any moment?
All in all, a stylish and provocative art film that added a powerful emotional dimension to Liz Fernando’s unique art exhibition. The two components (film/photos) were perfect foils for one another. This was a fine example of the gestalt principle at work. That is to say, the whole was certainly greater than the sum of its parts.