Published on 12:00 AM, September 15, 2017

MAILBOX

A tourist in Saha's political world

Confusion between media, message, and personal bias abound in Zyma Islam's article, "Whimsical, political, subversive: A review of 'Tasher Desh.'" By curating a political exhibition in an active, factory/residential building, outside of Dhaka's main cultural district, Atish Saha is challenging basic assumptions about what art is and who it benefits.

To her credit, the writer allowed herself to go on an adventure in Dhaka: she took the invitation to explore a place she'd never been and gave honest, descriptive accounts of the print district and many of the exhibition's art pieces.  However, her writing exposes her class bias and casts her as a tourist in Saha's political world.

The purpose of art cannot be to "humanise" any group of people, a phrase that Islam uses repeatedly in her article. Workers, labourers, artists, men, women, children... we're already human, and frankly, it's the personal responsibility of each individual to learn to recognise the person-hood of others, rather than locate humanity in artworks.

The purpose of contemporary art is to incite new thoughts and feelings in its viewers. When a space or a medium is also alive and changing the presence of real life becomes a part of how we experience the art. What does it mean to live and work with art? What does it meant to encounter art in your daily life?  When art is displayed in a gallery it's meant for upper-class people to see and ultimately possess. Atish challenged this assumption when he divorced his exhibition from a traditional gallery space and the expected social order. He expanded the dialog beyond artist and viewer, encompassing art vs space, and expectations vs perceived reality.

Islam's description of Juneer Kibria's video work, displayed on cellphones, was particularly confused. She writes just three sentences on her encounter with the piece, then continues to impress her concern that the phones are valuable property and could be stolen over three paragraphs, where the exasperated curator insists the art is about video not theft. I must repeat: Kibria's piece was not concerned with the phones themselves, and he does not wish to test or showcase the morality of the building's inhabitants. The videos are a series of bold, graphic images where quiet moments from the artist's personal archives are invaded by totalitarian imagery, and absurd textual responses to his loss of personal power in the face of larger social powers. The phones were just a populous tool to convey his critique of current, systemic, global oppression  which the artist observes in his home country of Bangladesh and in the USA where he currently resides. I cannot express how sad it makes me that the press failed to see a critique of oppression in favour of baseless judgement of working people.

Atish Saha has created a behemoth exhibition, giving platform and supporting the voices of 25 Bangladeshi artists who unflinchingly comment on topics that are truly important to the political character of Dhaka right now. I would encourage the author of this article and those who share her views to take a second look—a very close look—at the show and their own preconceived opinions. Consider what art, spaces, and ideas make you uncomfortable and why, and allow yourself to be immersed in Saha's worldview.

Betsy Zacsek is an independent artist and curator working out of Chicago. Zacsek has followed the careers of Atish Saha and Juneer Kibria for many years. She has not seen the exhibition in Dhaka but has been an integral part of the team of Tasher Desh.