Shape of
Silences

Revisiting Sanjay’s archives of photographs, over time, I have felt that to do justice to his work, the curator’s endeavor should be to present an exhibition that takes the viewer on a journey with the photographer, to make the viewing experience truly immersive.

Having worked with him earlier, I have known how his art evolved over the years: days of travel on roads across Bengal in search of the art, crafts and heritage he was determined to document.

He often reminisced about the discoveries he made when local people introduced him to the craftsmen, the fishermen, the artisans, weavers, musical instrument makers and performance artists. Often he would buy ‘dokra’ figurines, clay dolls, bead ornaments or locally woven mats and ‘gamchhas’, if only to pay the seller something in return.

Villagers hospitably shared their modest homes with him, showing him a world few outsiders had seen. Once, with Durga Puja approaching, he gifted us a little ‘dokra’ Durga made by village metal craftsmen.

The terracotta temples that became his primary subject were discovered serendipitously, when the ‘Naachnee’ he was filming asked if he had seen them.

Over the decades he photographed these medieval structures, learning their design and layout, the façades carved in great detail. He returned again and again to Murshidabad and Bishnupur, following trails to Gaur, Pandua and other mofussil towns, each complex patterned with deities, men, women, animals, apsaras and geometric ‘alpanas’.

Like a man possessed, he began regular drives from Delhi, mostly alone, at times with his artist wife Shampa, to the distant corners of Bengal.

Unbeknownst to him, these monuments were landmarks of my own childhood; my maternal grandparents lived in Murshidabad. When I chanced upon his photograph taken there at a group show, I stood before it in amazement. Our dialogue began at that point and continues, reclaiming a place tied to memory for both of us, for different reasons.

— Ina Puri, Independent Curator, Writer & Collector