Kumartuli

Kumartuli: 2017-2018

In the far North side of Kolkata, an unassuming alley opens up to a maze of workshops where artisans operate year-round, sculpting idols from clay or fiberglass. Many of these massive sculptures are on display for just a few days during Hindu holidays before being submerged into Ganga water in order to release the divinity back into her spiritual realm. Some say she inhabits the vessel of an idol once the eyes have been painted. From that moment, a cloth is placed over the face until the celebration officially begins and the goddess can be revealed to her worshippers.

For myself, I find this place both fascinating and disturbing for its depiction of women. In a highly patriarchal country, there is a strong dichotomy between the worship of female figures and their daily objectivity. I grew an affinity for the shape of idol bodies, as many carry a very intentional round of belly fat sculpted around her waist. It is a far cry from the Westernized perception of female beauty and much appreciated. However, this culture is far from perfect. Most of the women I know here, including myself, have been sexually assaulted. The words used to describe this are often downplayed to “grabbing” or “groping”, even if bruising or burning exists long after the public encounter. Language is still heavy here revolving around a woman’s immodesty as the prime reason for catcalling, assault or rape.

Patriarchy scratches even deeper into the surface of professionalism than under-representation and the gender pay gaps of USA. I once searched for photography jobs for a group of past students, I was both shocked and dismayed to find seventy-five percent of the postings quite literally, and sometimes in all caps, read “MALE ONLY.” A woman I spoke with was called into a job interview and discovered the office was completely empty, except for the boss. He caressed her cheek, told her she was pretty, and made it abundantly clear he was looking for an office assistant “with benefits” while talking about his wife and daughter in practically the same, putrid breath.

More recently, I submitted work to a local photo organization here in Kolkata. Not a single woman was listed on their board membership and I crossed out part of the entry form and changed its heading to read, “Dear Sir OR MADAM.” My work was not accepted, which is fine as I’ve received many rejections through the course of my career. However, it was disheartening to see the previous year’s accepted entries and find (mixed within a fine collection of photographs) a few uninteresting portraits of lovely, young, Western women as well as a very tasteless frontal nude which was flatly lit and poorly styled. Had there been technical or artistic merits to these works, I could fully get behind it, but in this case, it was clearly a matter of men being more entranced by the physical beauty of a woman than having any recognition of qualities which make for a strong photograph.

Also in the photo industry: last year I reached out to a larger organization which provides educational seminars for photographers. I inquired as to why there was no female representation in their group of speakers and provided suggestions for Indian photographers who I felt would be a fine addition to their lineup. I reached out to one of those women, who had since moved to the other side of the country, to inquire about role models in Kolkata who I may be able to connect with. She seemed surprised, herself, when she realized that in over a decade of working in this city as a photojournalist, she could not recall one instance of having ever met another female working within the medium. Thankfully, I was able to dig up a few names, but not nearly enough.

Until I can figure out something else, I will continue with these tiny acts of protest and persuasion in hopes of opening the doors, even just a little bit, for other women who are trying to break into photography and share their voice. What an oppressive and one-sided world to be so overwhelmingly dominated by a male perspective!