The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/news/photoktm-5-s-visual-extravaganza">fifth edition of PhotoKTM </a>has come to an end. The theme of the annual month-long festivity this year was the natural world with a focus on co-existence and nature. There were over 60 participating artists from 16 countries. One of them was Mónica Alcázar-Duarte, a Mexican-British multi-disciplinary visual artist whose work acknowledges her indigenous heritage while exploring current ideals of progress. In 2022, Alcazar-Duart was awarded the Wayfinder Award from National Geographic, as well as a residency with Light Work through the Autograph Gallery in London. Her work has been exhibited and collected throughout Europe, Mexico and the United States in places such as the Museum of Modern Art in New York, Autograph Gallery in London and Wilhelm Hack Museum in Germany.&nbsp; Alston D’Silva, an educator, critic and media scholar based in Kathmandu recently spoke to Alcazar-Duart about her recent PhotoKTM exhibition. Read the excerpts: Alston D’Silva: In your earlier project Second Nature where you explored the biases in algorithmically generated representation of Mexican women, you have reflected that technology adopts language related to nature, “enabling it to sit comfortably in our minds”. &nbsp;More immediately in Ikamo-Tlalli (Earthless), your exhibition at PhotoKTM 5, you juxtapose an articulation of natural abundance with exploitation and extraction. Can you speak about your sustained engagement with this concept of the Anthropocene? How does the history of space exploration direct us into a trajectory of more climate altering activity? How does the site of your work, the island of Ascension, engage with the activation and suppression of indigenous knowledge and history? Mónica Alcázar-Duarte: The case of Ascension Island, located in the South Atlantic Ocean, is particularly poignant when referring to notions of colonialism in science. It became an experiment for Charles Darwin, Kew Gardens (the Royal Botanic Gardens founded in 1840 that collected flora specimens) and the Royal Navy.&nbsp; In 1836, during his second Beagle voyage through the Galapagos, Darwin briefly visited Ascension. He is quoted referring to the island as a cinder. In 1847 his friend and botanist Joseph Hooker, who would become Kew Gardens’ director, agreed to engage in the shipment of trees, plants and some animal species to the island. This was all possible thanks to the help of the Royal Navy.&nbsp; This experiment, changing the island’s ecosystem, is the first terraforming action, a man-made ecosystem that was approximately 12 years in the making. Today the island has three different ecosystems: rainforest, a volcanic mountain range and a desert ecosystem, the rainforest being the main result of the terraforming process. Ascension is used today as a reference for what could be achieved one day by a human colony on Mars. The cultural mythology around this kind of idea exists as an attempt to reduce the gap between the fantasy of Mars as a second home to humanity and the reality of it.&nbsp; With Ikamo-Tlalli (Earthless) I seek to show how wide the gap is between the idea of bringing life as we have it now on Earth to Mars, and the reality of what this process would require. The balance of ecological systems as we have had them on Earth took 4.5 billion years to evolve. All the technology, ingenuity, and advancement of our civilisation will never catch up with natural processes such as this magnificent occurrence. But unfortunately, at this point in time we believe that we will become demi-gods and, in some corners, scientists are seriously considering ideas of geoengineering, terraforming, and so on. I see these approaches as the legacy of a certain attitude developed many years ago in which Nature is there to be probed, poked, and owned. As part of the colonial project that took place around the world, and that was enhanced by the Industrial Revolution, indigenous ideas of stewardship were supplanted by ideals of ownership and production, of efficiency and resources, towards Nature and our position within it. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/multimedia/reliving-analogue-photography">Reliving analogue photography</a>, Suman Nepali  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230331140324_7252e37e7855db7748a77bcd5712f48ddfda85c25398d59059a6b628d255b4fe.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20230331140324_7252e37e7855db7748a77bcd5712f48ddfda85c25398d59059a6b628d255b4fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="2500" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Shikhar Bhattarai"> <figcaption>Photo: (Photo: Shikhar Bhattarai)© Shikhar Bhattarai</figcaption> </figure>  Your work assembles the output of myriad research methodologies—artistic, archival, algorithmic, among others. For instance, you include a reproduction of stock crashes generated by AI bots overlaid on a photograph of yourself in an apiary outfit, and across from it is a grim archival photograph of a decapitated animal head presumably from a natural history collection. How does your work engage with rational systems of knowledge production across time? These interventions appear less straightforward than outright rejection, as you appear to make space for technological imaginaries to converse with ancestral knowing and emancipatory impulses—minus capitalism. Is that an accurate characterisation of the intervention your work attempts? What strategies does your work suggest to bring forward indigeneity and ancestral knowledge into the din of scientific discourse and technological confabulation? I think of my work as ‘work in progress’. The projects that I work on usually take years to develop. This is not only due to the amount of research that goes into the projects, but also because I acknowledge my evolving standpoint. I say this because I believe it is important to recognise that we don’t hold all the answers and that we are ‘in-process’ just as much as our work is. Having stated this, early on when I started work on the space exploration project, I realised that it was going to take several years for the project to unfold. It was quite likely that technology would change and my point of view towards it all would evolve. As I said, I evolve as the work grows. This is not a lack of commitment to the ideas, or even to making a statement. It is more like a philosophy of what I would like to see as humility towards the seeking of knowledge.&nbsp; In the case of the work shown during PhotoKTM, I decided to test the combination of themes that I have been working on since 2014. And one of these themes involves the use of language as a tool for decolonial thought. The use of Náhuatl (an indigenous language from the central part of México) comes at a time when I find out that my grandmother quite likely belonged to an indigenous community. I concluded this from a photograph she showed me, and a story she told me. The amount of denial I encountered in my family afterwards was what piqued my interest and prompted my now insatiable study of post-colonial and decolonial thought. This denial signalled something other than the question about my indigenous heritage. It indicated a legacy of erasure that has been internalised by us all in such a way that we think this is the order of things, this is the way things work. This disables any possibility for a different form of enquiry, or knowledge building, or shift in paradigms.&nbsp; In my case, the needed paradigm shift relates to ecological thought. What I mean is, if we have English as the language of Science, and Science as the language of the future, any other mode of expression, investigation, assertion, is excluded and diminished. It is rendered ineffective and outdated. This becomes problematic at a moment in time in which we find ourselves struggling to see a way through ecological crisis, not quite understanding that what we need is a different series of imaginaries for the future. These imaginaries, as I am calling them, must emerge from a different way of being and an understanding of the natural world and our position in it. I do not want to pretend that I have an answer, but I am clear that we can’t remain inactive. I prefer to participate, take part in conversations, prompt questions and seek answers together. Making this type of work is part of a process of mourning what we have already lost and what is not coming back, like the little rabbit encased in formaldehyde and ethanol as a specimen of study in the installation part of PhotoKTM. But it is also my way of using the energy that mourning brings with it.&nbsp; The future as we are living it now, with its ideals of progress and infinite growth, has quickly become the unsustainable fantasy that puts profit before life. We need schools, and clinics, and roads, but there must be a way in which we do not need a digital cloud that consumes 30 billion watts of power per year (New York Times, 2012). This equals the energy produced by 30 nuclear plants, or 6.4 million households in a year.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-way-we-were">The way we were</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230331140328_0791a0571546b89f338846d47cb5a4e5cda537d9ca2200d7612fe699e039abb9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20230331140328_0791a0571546b89f338846d47cb5a4e5cda537d9ca2200d7612fe699e039abb9" data-rendition-name="original" width="3500" height="2333" loading="lazy" alt="Praveen Chettri"> <figcaption>Photo:Praveen Chettri</figcaption> </figure>  We’ve seen strategies of research experiments across many of the works in the festival. Would you say that this is the result of the complexity of the issues that you are compelled to explore as an artist? &nbsp; I think this is where I could mention the term that came out in our conversation the other day; techno-agnostic. I find how we arrived at this term so interesting because it was prompted by your question on techno-phobia and my resolution to make clear that I am not anti-technology, or anti-knowledge, or anti-exploration. These are all needed traits in humanity. Great advancements in medicine and care for people with PTSD have come thanks to VR for example. Palliative care on cancer patients has also helped many people thanks to image generated technological developments. Our empathy grows because of travelling. Our curiosity has resulted in great advancements in medicine. But I perceive there is a certain reverence towards ‘tech’; an almost faith-like attitude towards technology and its capabilities to bring answers to our pressing problems. This I find problematic, and so I find myself becoming techno-agnostic. I remain open to the evolution of technology, but I do not believe we should use it to offset the ecological issues we are facing today. We cannot think that we will store the DNA of all those extinct species with the goal of bringing them back one day, maybe on Mars, when it has taken billions of years for the right living conditions to exist the way they have existed up to now. We should not think that if we need to, we will geo-engineer clouds that will ‘patch’ the ozone holes once the condition becomes unsustainable. Why not instead figure out a way to rid ourselves of a business model dependent on our data, dependent on a gigantic digital cloud, dependent on profit over our life.&nbsp; I’m curious about the haptic qualities in the video installation, where the camera suggests the gait of a human subject. As a mode of conveyance, the video appears to pointedly contrast walking as a grounded inquiry on the surface of the planet to the bombastic theatre of space exploration. Can you elaborate on these qualities of the video? Relatedly, your work features a practice of self-insertion—you appear as a veiled figure in the video at Ikamo-Tlalli (‘Earthless’)—which suggests your own entanglement with the questions and issues you explore. The movement of the camera appears to be an extension of this expression of situatedness.&nbsp; Recently, right in front of our eyes, the natural world has revolted in such a way that we lack the emotional, sensorial vocabulary to understand it, nevermind expressing it. All of the sudden, there are ghostly presences, such as the melting icebergs, that come with a history of unheard messages, and interconnections, these presences are becoming testimonies. My use of statics and movement through film, photography and drawing, is my contribution to what I see as an absence of thought on current ideas of ecological thought. The self-insertion, as you are calling it, comes from a sense of erasure. Bodies, faces, presences like mine are not expected in certain spaces. People that speak and look like me, non-western, do not belong in spaces where conversations on space exploration, or algorithmic bias, take place. Furthermore, throughout my life I have been shown a reflection of people like me by outsiders who have claimed to know better about the world. Through a neoliberal globalised world, we are abstracted and generalised to a state where we have lost our own points of reference. By inserting myself within the spaces in which I have been told I do not belong I open a wound of absence, an absence of thought that we are all feeling now. This absence of thought is not a global thought, it is not an all-encompassing standard. This thought is not internationalist. This thought recognises difference as our shared humanity and change as the only constant. I am interested in that difference, in that contradiction, in that contested space. A space in which clean-cut answers do not cut it anymore, because we are living in a world that has revealed its wild ‘liveness’ in all its force. It is in this space where new imaginaries will form. It is in this space where ghosts like my great-grandma, my grandma, and myself, are revealed. These ghosts, for a lack of a better word, become presences, not apparitions.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/making-nepal-s-history-colourful">Making Nepal’s history colourful</a>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20230331140328_2e69a76e1e47c365ced4a683bc4080767cfae90b0eaf15bd93c8f6ba2c7f2c17.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20230331140328_2e69a76e1e47c365ced4a683bc4080767cfae90b0eaf15bd93c8f6ba2c7f2c17" data-rendition-name="original" width="3500" height="2333" loading="lazy" alt="Samagra Shah 2"> <figcaption>Photo: Samagra Shah</figcaption> </figure>  You draw a figuration of a mountain-like or glacial scene that dramatically occupies one portion of the wall of the exhibition space. It has an urgent quality of authenticity perhaps due to the direct and intimate presence of the artist’s hand evident in its construction. Immediately, it evokes the notion of the unseen and buried, and that theme is amplified by the line work that visually resembles radio wave frequencies as it extends the piece outwards. Can you comment about its inclusion and how it appears to be related to the specificity of the site of the exhibition in the festival and in Nepal? &nbsp; During the pandemic I rediscovered my love for drawing I first learnt when I was studying architecture. But it is not until now, after the pandemic, that I feel I understand it a bit more. Drawing has become a way of understanding better how perception works. It requires a combination of observation and meditation, I draw best when I stop looking and I start evoking. I draw what I want to see, and so for PhotoKTM I decided to use one of the walls at gallery Mcube to draw a melting iceberg. Icebergs being this poignant topic of the Anthropocene, but also being such a monument for time and Earth’s geological history.&nbsp; The process of drawing is a process of apparitions, as it requires making the image appear. This is also inter-connected to the notion of self-insertion previously discussed. But it also relates to my visit to PhotoKTM, I wanted to make something that would only be possible if I was on-site. Drawing an iceberg requires the lines to be in some state of stillness that reflect the ice, but also of movement that may reflect the energy of melting. This energy is also inter-connected to the energy consumed by the digital clouds.&nbsp; Drawing this piece is a very moving process for me because it makes me feel that I am in the presence of something that in some years will almost be gone. Something that took almost 1.5 million years to form will be gone in a decade. The iceberg speaks to me about our inability to act on a crisis that was declared more than 50 years ago. This speaks of course of how change works, as an incremental process, but also to our lack of imaginaries on the face of this beautiful, overwhelming, alive nature that we are experiencing today. This monstrously alive nature with its floods, its earthquakes, its fires, its tsunamis, and its rising sea levels. With its disappearing species, with its uncontrollable forces that remind us of our brevity. What better way of communicating this than making a big drawing that will be erased as the next exhibition comes? Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/portrait-of-a-photographer-in-rural-nepal">Portrait of a photographer in rural Nepal</a>, Monika Deupala

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Anthropocene in Art

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150240/63fe12659c7e80680e0da51ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"/><figcaption>Travellers cross the Narayani River at Pitauji Ghat, down the river from Narayanghat in 1967. Logs are piled across the river, which will be brought over to be hauled to India. Photo: DAVE HOHL/NEPAL PEACE CORPS PHOTO HISTORY PROJECT</figcaption></figure>The fifth edition of PhotoKTM is coming to town for a month-long festival of various lens-based work. From 25 February-31 March, photo.circle’s bi-annual festival aims to create resources for visual storytellers, researchers, educators, activists and other cultural producers to engage with social change.The theme this year is the natural world, and PhotoKTM 5 will have over 60 participants from 16 countries to highlight ‘non-human entities’, re-learn histories and pay attention, encouraging participants to imagine ways to co-exist and co-habitat this earth.The opening on 24 February at Bhandarkhal in the Patan Darbar Square will feature an immersive audio-visual performance, curated by Irina Giri and musical performances by artists Pushpa Palanchoke and Ser o Dúo, and the Kathmandu Jazz Conservatory Choir, accompanied with visual projections by Phatcowlee.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150240/63fe12679c7e80680e0da51fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150240/63fe126b9c7e80680e0da520jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Chitwan National Park will see activities from 3-6 March. Indian filmmaker Amar Kanwar will teach a five-week course ‘Learning from Doubt’ on crime, politics, human rights, and ecology.PhotoKTM 5 will also have Bangladeshi artist, curator and teacher Munem Wasif, Swiss artist and writer Uriel Orlow, Indian filmmaker Sriram Murali, the Feather Library, Alana Hunt from Miriwoong country in the north-west of Australia, Mexican/British multidisciplinary visual artist Monica Alcazar Duarte, among others. Nepal Picture Library, and KTK-Belt Project which works on biodiversity preservation in eastern Nepal will also be presenting their work at the festival.<figure><figcaption>Photo: MONICA ALCAZAR-DUARTE</figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150240/63fe126e9c7e80680e0da521jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150240/63fe12719c7e80680e0da522jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1000" height="667"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>PhotoKTM also hosts a research residency, and this year it is being organised in collaboration with Jatayu Vulture Restaurant in Nawalparasi, and Bird Conservation Nepal (BCN).The South Asia Incubator for emerging and mid-career visual practitioners will allow participants to engage with global professionals and provide inputs to exhibit, publish and develop practices.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150240/63fe12749c7e80680e0da523jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="800"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><h2>EXHIBITIONS</h2>As We Know Them: Bird Names in Tharu25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmKhapinchhenSungabha: Encounters in the Wild25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11:00 am - 7:00 pmDhaugalA Very Clear Picture25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11:00 am - 7:00 pmPatan HouseThe Skin of Chitwan25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmBahadur Shah HallIkamo Tlalli – Earthless25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmGallery MCubeDrawing From Nature25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11:00 am - 7:00 pmDhaugalMinmini25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmChyasal<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230228150240/63fe12779c7e80680e0da524jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2007" height="1000">The World like a Jewel in the Hand25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmBahadur Shah HallChhimeki Chara25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11:00 am - 7:00 pmChyasalSeeds Shall Set Us Free25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmGallery MCubeIndigenous Knowledge Portal25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmKhapinchhenFeather Library25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmChyasalWhat Plants Were Called Before They Had a Name25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmKhapinchhenSearching for the European Roller25 Feb - 31 March 2023 | 11am - 7pmNamkhaFestival attendance is free.  <a href="http://www.photoktm.com/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.photoktm.com&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1677293192940000&amp;usg=AOvVaw3fkMCuwY0Tf44VdZelfbDx">www.photoktm.com</a>

PhotoKTM 5’s visual extravaganza

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd3209c7e80680e0d304ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>All photos: TASHI R GHALE</figcaption></figure>Brown eyes meet green eyes in the icy crags of Upper-Manang. Tashi R Ghale is camouflaged like a commando, and keeps perfectly still, just 4m from the mother snow leopard and her two cubs as they feast on a Himalayan thar.Ghale knows that even though <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/trekking-to-save-nepals-snow-leopards/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">snow leopards are shy creatures</a> and do not attack humans, a provoked mother can defend her cubs. Imperceptibly, he raises his camera and takes a burst of shots, the clicks muffled by the wind and din of Griffon vultures wheeling overhead.Growing up in Manang, Ghale found it difficult to discern the panje (as snow leopards are known in his mother tongue)because their spotted pelt blended so well with the cliffs they climbed.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd3279c7e80680e0d304bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">It is still difficult to catch a glimpse of the endangered Himalayan big cats, but Ghale has since trained himself to track them. He has had close encounters at least 30 times since first photographing them in 2006 and this has earned him the moniker, Snow Leopard Whisperer.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd32b9c7e80680e0d304cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="109">“I know the terrain in Manang like the back of my hand,” says Ghale, showing us around his exhibition, ‘Melting Paradise’ that uses his photographs of snow leopards over the years to highlight how <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/satellite-tracking-snow-leopards-in-nepal-to-study-climate-impact/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">climate change is impacting the Himalayan habitat</a>.In Manang, like elsewhere in the Himalaya, the glaciers that drain the north slopes of the Annapurnas are shrinking and the snowline is receding. The Gangapurna glacial lake was expanding until it got swallowed up in sediment after a flood last year -- also depicted in Ghale's photographs.Snow leopard photography got some bad press recently with photoshopped images by an American trekker ostensibly taken in the Everest region.But genuine Nepali field biologists like Tashi R Ghale know how difficult it is to get a good shot, and the reward in terms of personal fulfilment.The careful patience of a wildlife photographer shows through Ghale’s work. In Lone Tree II he combines six shots to create an expansive panorama that immerses the viewers in the wilderness habitat of the snow leopard.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd32d9c7e80680e0d304djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2167" height="1000"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd3329c7e80680e0d304ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2156" height="1000"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd3369c7e80680e0d304fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3600" height="2400">Ujen Norbu Gurung, the curator of Windhorse Gallery that is exhibiting ‘Melting Paradise’ says he immediately recognised the importance of Ghale’s work: “To talk is one thing, but to show is another. Tashi’s exhibit does just that.”The exhibition includes photographs of snow leopard prey from Dolpo and Humla as well as the predator in the wilds of Manang and Mustang.The Snow Leopard (Panthera uncia) is in the IUCN’s global Endangered C1 red list with only 300 to 500 left in the wild in Nepal. Globally, there may be up to 7,000 left, but these populations are threatened by poaching and habitat decline due to climate change.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd33a9c7e80680e0d3050jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2492" height="1800"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd33f9c7e80680e0d3051jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1667" height="1000"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd3439c7e80680e0d3052jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">“Being the top predator, the snow leopard is an indicator species of the health of the Himalayan ecosystem,” says Ghale, and that is the biologist in him speaking.With global warming, he says, the tree line is creeping up the mountains, and this means the snow leopard habitat is slowly being encroached upon by competing common leopards of the lower valleys. Human disturbance with new roads and settlements are also driving away the snow leopard.“A snow leopard is needed for every 150 blue sheep to cull their wild population and reduce pressure on the grasslands,” explains Ghale. A decline in snow leopard population will also affect Himalayan vultures which clean up the carcass that the cats leave behind.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd3489c7e80680e0d3053jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1071" height="1500"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20230112100128/63bfd34c9c7e80680e0d3054jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000">Tashi Ghale and his team employed his award-winning camera-trapping techniques to conduct a census of predators and prey, as well as employ a team of observers to calculate the population in blocks. Ghale reckons there are approximately 2,200 blue sheep in Manang alone. Snow leopards are studied <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-leads-in-snow-leopard-study/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">most intensively in Nepal</a> and there are signs cat numbers are increasing in some pockets despite the threats.Besides snow leopards, Ghale’s camera traps have led him to discover new and lost Himalayan species like the Pallas Cat and the Himalayan Grey Wolf of which there are said to be only 50 remaining in Nepal. In fact, the Pallas Cat has been renamed Tashi Cat to honour his discovery. Ghale founded the Third Pole Conservancy and has contributed to the Destination Manang eco-tourism campaign.Tashi Ghale's father had taught him to fear the panje, which would often kill livestock and leave paw prints near the family home. Today, rather than fear the animal, Ghale is in awe of them.He teaches secondary students in Manang to set up camera traps and <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Studying-Cat-Scat,3559" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">recognise snow leopard droppings</a>. He says: “Just like we have distinctive fingerprints, snow leopards have individual spots. Recognising individual snow leopards is the first step in co-existing with them.”

Snow leopard redux

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237b29c7e80680e0c7345jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2304" height="1536"/><figcaption>Photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption></figure>‘Colors of Shared Dreams’ at Nepal Art Council is an act of transference, most notably of the millennia-old traditions of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/vibrant-mithila-art-thrives-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Mithila art and artists</a>, their heritage, to paper.The key theme here is the dreaming, and 51 women artists give voice to the vision of their lives, trials and tribulations, and dreams.Mithila art is most recognisable by its traditionally drawn, two-dimensional figures adorning the walls of homes in the ancient Mithila kingdom that spans present day southern Nepal and northern India.The origin of this singular art form is rooted in the legend of King Janak who had his subjects paint the walls of their homes to welcome Lord Ram when he came to ask for his daughter Sita’s hand in marriage.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237b59c7e80680e0c7346jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2304" height="1536"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237b99c7e80680e0c7347jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2304" height="1536"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Mithila paintings then were done at weddings, festivals and feasts using flour, clay and cowdung. The artists were mostly the women of the family, and as the art evolved, the paintings became more than a way to beautify homes — they provided women a creative outlet to tell stories of their lives.Then, 30 years ago, the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/colour-play-mithila-art-janakpur,796" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Janakpur Women’s Development Center</a> helped to introduce a new medium for this art — paper — in a drive to keep this tradition alive and also encourage women to gain financial independence through Mithila art.Now, ‘Colors of Shared Dreams’ traces this movement in history and form, keeping intact the core values, style and aesthetics of Mithila art, to also include ceramics, mirrors and woolen figures.In sections, ‘Colors of Shared Dreams’ showcases the personal stories of the artists with the dance of the natural life, elephants, bulls, fish and peacocks, adorning the geometric frames. It also serves as a commentary on society, like its reflection were mirrored on a canvas.Read also: <a style="font-weight: 600; letter-spacing: 0.15px; background-color: #ffffff; outline: 0px;" href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nation-bhaktapur,597">Bhaktapur’s Mithila influence</a>, Bhaskar Koirala<a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8294#.YxLqIc9BxpS">Mythic Mithila</a>, CK Lal<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237bc9c7e80680e0c7348jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2304" height="1536"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237c09c7e80680e0c7349jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption>Photo: ARIA SHREE PARASAI</figcaption></figure>This transition, or progress, is perhaps more conspicuous in contemporary and experimental feel of the later pieces that still stay true to the unique style and technique of Mithila art: characters facing sideways, elongated almond eyes, expressive hands and the tiered canvas.By depicting the many aspects of daily life, from taking care of children to cooking, cleaning, looking after older family members, the paintings bear the hallmark of the heavy workloads imposed on women — work that is often neglected and undervalued by men.For instance, the ghumto in one artwork seems to represent the restriction on a woman to only perform her household duties. Another painfully highlights the abuse in relationships. How may a caged bird still sing?However, dreams are boundless and in the art one finds comfort, inspiration, drive, and the promise for a better future — both for the artist and viewer.The artists see themselves not just as being confined to the house but in powerful positions, women <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/modern-mithila-art-that-bares-injustice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">taking control of their lives</a> and destinies.One painting depicts a woman raising her children independently, another shows a working professional. Migration has led all the men out of their homes to the Gulf or elsewhere, and in one painting, women break out of the domestic drudgery to learn and express their skills.They drive tractors and are literal breadwinners now, while others pilot airplanes and spaceships. The sky is no longer the limit.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237c39c7e80680e0c734ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2304" height="1536"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131140/637237c69c7e80680e0c734bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2304" height="1536"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Yet, there is still that haunting voice lingering, one that pauses and reminds us that while it is not all gloom and dark, it is not all sunshine and rainbows either.What makes the artworks distinct is that very voice trying to bridge the vast realm of possibilities with the much harsher reality. Where does tradition fit in the belief systems of today? Can we be truly modern and progressive unless we ditch all that tethers us to the past? The voice prods and ponders.In their frank depictions of the struggles in a patriarchal society, the paintings are relatable and striking. Here is the struggle shared collectively by the artists, women and dreamers trying to break the mould. The art highlights the problems, but it also shows the resilience to fight.Says Sheelasha Rajbhandari, coordinator of the exhibition: “It is very empowering to see all these <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/how-art-empowers-nepals-women/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">women coming together and working together</a>. Mithila artists do not get the acknowledgement they deserve, especially individual contributions by women.”Colours of Shared DreamsNepal Art Council, Babar Mahal2 – 5 September 202210AM – 6PM

The dreamscape of Mithila art

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637234099c7e80680e0c4911jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="2348"/><figcaption>Photo: ASHISH DHAKAL.</figcaption></figure>Siddhartha Art Gallery is once again alive with a vibrant colour palette, meticulously textured on canvas, depicting stunning expressions of devotion and dedication to art, inspiration and shakti.Renowned <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Manandhar-fourth-exhibit-Nepal,2641" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">artist Kiran Manandhar</a>’s latest show ‘Samarpan’ – his first in four years – adds a delectable frenzy of red, orange, blue, black and white to the space. The gap in between the canvases sit like columns or bars, as though the frames were each a window and the viewers were staring directly into the eyes of providence.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/6372340d9c7e80680e0c4912jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="654"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637234109c7e80680e0c4913jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="621">Photos: SAGAR MANANDHARIt is immediately difficult to group these artworks in a single genre. The softer lines and sharper angles are balanced by almost distinct faces. The curves of eyes, lips and limbs are bracketed by amorphous flames and shadows. There is a certain vagueness about the paintings – like the waves and ripples one sees in rivers or the sea – and the deities, Kali, Brahmayani, Kumari, Vaishnavi,  Ganesh, Seto and Rato Machhindranath, look abstract enough, but Manandhar will not relent so easily.“I am like a bird,” he says sitting under a parasol outside the gallery, as a sparrow skips across the courtyard paved with bricks on to a nearby bush. “I don’t make art saying one style or another, I like to hop from one branch to another, from one tree to another."Manandhar jokes that birds do not need visas to fly around. This desire for no restriction, to dissolve borders (at least in art) is strikingly conspicuous in ‘Samarpan’. Stylistically diverse, the paintings and a couple charcoal drawings even transcend philosophies and the various global schools of art. Influences of the European masters, for instance, blend in with the traditional Nepali figures, iconography and style.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637234139c7e80680e0c4914jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3976" height="2352"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637234179c7e80680e0c4915jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2523" height="2478"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Nature and light also create an overall dream-like impression. Perhaps this ever-moving effect produced may be explained by Manandhar’s own drive to understand what art is. He is not being coy when he candidly admits, “Even after all these years, I still don’t know what a painting is.” This admission sums up his oeuvre.In fact, it is also an expression of the phenomenological conundrum: can one ever truly understand a concept or craft absolutely? Perhaps when one knows what painting is entirely, one does not need to paint anymore, but Manandhar has no intention of stopping. He describes the itch to make art, even at odd hours and places: working to figure out, to develop one’s skills and understanding:“I cannot stop,” he says, “My wish is to paint, to take Nepal’s name everywhere.”An evidence of this is ‘Samarpan’ which may appear at the outset to be very different from what the general public has come to take Manandhar’s modern and abstract works in the past. Abstract art, after all, has roots in indigenous and folk art.There is much variety here and the paintings do not want to be tied down to a particular adjective or movement. They are themselves in motion instead, to show the world and other artists, especially young ones, just how much there is to do.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/6372341b9c7e80680e0c4916jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="2279"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>‘Samarpan’ is the fruit of labour of four year and a couple paintings go far back as 2016. Much of the work was made during the Covid-19 pandemic and the title refers to  the dedication, the offering made to art, to inspiration, to the many artists who were compelled to give up by the pandemic and the constraints it invited, and to Nepal which Manandhar so lovingly calls ‘devbhumi’ – land of gods.To call them patriotic or nationalistic would be missing the point, for this presupposes borders which Manandhar wishes to bring down. While the gods depicted are Nepali in essence, the art is an homage, a look towards the past and the traditions. It is also a representation of a spiritual landscape and the power of divine inspiration. After all, who can traverse boundaries and partitions as easily as the gods?<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/6372341e9c7e80680e0c4917jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="3008"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/art-for-a-cause/">Artists have to be sensitive</a>,” he adds, “We have to be observant and thoughtful.” But he admits it is not easy being one. Many artists, he says, especially young, are compelled to give up because there is <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6263#.Yvy_xH1ByJB" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">no immediate ‘sound and effect’</a> result in art.He recalls speaking to other artists who are now abroad and no longer painting, who lament the lack of support and opportunities in Nepal. “One works for as long as one can,” he says. “Which is why a good support system is necessary that brings together artists, educators and patrons.”SamarpanBy Kiran ManandharSiddhartha Art Gallery.Baber Mahal RevisitedOpen 11:00AM – 5:00PMTill 24 August 2022.

Ashish Dhakal

Art for art's sake

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131120/6372333a9c7e80680e0c48d0jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="3264" height="1472"/><figcaption>Photos: ROSHAN MISHRA</figcaption></figure>Among the many legends about the Boudhanath Stupa, one involves a poor poultry keeper Jhazima and the buffalo skin.Boudhanatha is in fact the Sanskritised Panchayat-era renaming of the chaitya which was originally called <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/a-temple-by-another-name/">Khasti Mahachaitya</a> (‘great stupa of the dew drops’). However, the chaitya had another name too according to the Tibetan Buddhist tradition –– the Great Jarung Kashor (‘Let it be done, Slip of the tongue’) Stupa.Many years before the birth of the Shakyamuni Buddha, Jhazima, lived with her four sons in the village where Boudha sits today. After the demise of the Kasyapa Buddha, she petitioned the king to grant her land the size of a buffalo’s skin to build a stupa and inter the Buddha’s remains. The king, thinking it would be a measly piece of land, gave her permission.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131120/6372333d9c7e80680e0c48d1jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>However, Jhazima carefully cut the buffalo skin in a long strip, like a rope, and circumscribed a larger area – where the great Boudhanath Stupa stands today.This symbol of devotion quickly took on a political significance, as the wealthy people of the country were humbled by Jhazima’s faithful act.If a poor woman like her can build a stupa of such magnificence, they thought, they would have to build shrines equal to the mountains.“Stop the building,” they implored the king: “If this construction continues, then each and every one of us will be harshly criticised.”But the king would not hear of it. “This poor, single poultry-woman, through gathering earnings from raising chickens, established her four sons born of four fathers as respectable householders. Not only that, with her remaining wealth she builds a stupa such as this. I thought this to be truly amazing, and so the words <a href="https://www.lotsawahouse.org/tibetan-masters/ngakchang-shakya-zangpo/great-history-of-jarung-kashor-stupa" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.lotsawahouse.org/tibetan-masters/ngakchang-shakya-zangpo/great-history-of-jarung-kashor-stupa&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1660101181265000&amp;usg=AOvVaw1wvhhCg-Bb6IhKdfptWV4l">‘Let it be done’ (jarung) slipped from my tongue (kashor)</a>. Kings speak but once!” he said in response.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131120/637233409c7e80680e0c48d2jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1750" height="1055"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>This charming and extraordinary story is the subject of Object in Focus #5: Invocation at the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TaragaonMuseum">Taragaon Museum</a> situated next door to Boudhnath itself by contemporary visual artists Koka Vashakidze from Georgia and Alicia Junissaliyeva from Kazakhstan and curated by Roshan Mishra.At the centre of the room is a dark-coloured rope-like object spiraling – almost like a dizzying solar system, with what looks like a vague triangle standing in for the Sun – and surrounded by a rectangle of red ropes.But as one walks around, observes the work with an unfaltering gaze, the circle of the base quickly stands out. Then, with a little change in the angle, one can imagine a dome rising from it, followed by the ever-watching eyes and the finial.Here is the Boudhanath Stupa, translated, stripped down to its backbone – an abstraction. Like a cosmic bridge, it brings together the myth and the monument, looking both ways into the past and present.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131120/637233439c7e80680e0c48d3jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="4000" height="1800">All this may not be entirely conspicuous at first, but when one realises that the whorl is in fact real buffalo skin, the pieces fall in place. The rectangle outlines the block of land upon which the Mandala sits today. Take a step back outside the building and the doors represent the streets opening around the complex.The artists spent several weeks in Boudhanath, measuring the circumference of the stupa. Since animal skin is not permitted inside, they used the red rope for the purpose. People would come and watch them at work, perhaps wondering what they were up to. But the story of Jhazima, Vashakidze believes, was one of undefeated courage and creativity.Jhazima defied expectation, says Vashakidze. And instead of just putting the skin on the ground, she cut it in narrow strips to cover more area, demonstrating her boundless imagination. “And the king in the end has to say, ‘No, she has to continue making the stupa’,” he adds.Vashakidze, whose extensive contemporary body of work ranges from site-specific pieces to media installations, sees this as the moment when the rich and the poor, the powerful and the weak, are equal – because one woman with devotion for the Buddha stood up against the system and built an unprecedented monument, anticipating perhaps even the Shakyamuni.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131120/637233479c7e80680e0c48d4jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="750">The artwork, in this sense, is an invocation to memory, to history and to Jhazima. Along with Junissaliyeva’s experience in healing and energy exploration, the trio of the artists and curator Mishra has created a poignant piece that is equally contemplative and dramatic, reminding us that despite the overwhelming restrictions – political, social, professional – and widespread philosophical, spiritual lethargy around us, we can still create what we want to, for the realm of possibility is boundless.Says Mishra: “I think it is a brilliant notion to sit with one object, one narrative.” This has much to do with the fact that the viewers can spend time with this echo from the past under an extended spell.Leaving the exhibition, one is filled with a striking desire to visit the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-stupa-of-a-million-dewdrops/">Boudhanath Stupa</a>, where the remains of Kasyapa Buddha are believed to be entombed, to compare, to recall. There too, prayers and invocations from all around bounce off the white dome and fill the air with sweet music, as though the voices of good will have never ceased and promise to echo into the future – in the same way that Object in focus #5: Invocation is an echo itself, of the enduring legacy of Jhazima.The artwork will also travel to the Tbilisi Triennial in Georgia in October 2022.Object in focus #5: InvocationBy Koka Vashakidze and Alicia JunissaliyevaCurated by Roshan MishraTaragaon Museum,BoudhaOpen 10:00am – 5:00pmTill 18 August 2022.

Echoes of myth and monument

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111128/6372185f9c7e80680e0baa3bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2000" height="1334"/><figcaption>"The old man with young hands iii", 2019, Pen and ink on paper. Photos: MONIKA DEUPALA.</figcaption></figure>Sitting cross-legged in the dappled light under a tree outside the Siddhartha Art Gallery, his hand resting on a knee and wearing a black baseball cap, Samridh Mukhiya says, “I am a conceptual artist.”Inside the gallery the walls are lined with canvases in which Mukhiya has sketched pieces plucked delicately from his consciousness. Black ink on white fields give the impression of freshness, the spaces between the lines are mysterious and inviting with leitmotifs: bubbles, wells, trees, machines spewing smoke in the air, geometric shapes, strings.Born to artist Tek Bir Mukhiya who is renowned for his cover designs for many books by Sajha Publications – such as Parijat’s Shiris ko Phool and Devkota’s Muna Madan – Mukhiya, 35, admits, “I tend to use metaphors a lot.”Indeed, the artworks in the exhibition range from representations of quantum physics to political allegory, from mental health to the zodiac. And the result is as diverse as it is concise, without a hint of self-indulgence – even in the surreal Things I am grateful for, which was completed in 2018 as part of the series Mantra.A giant oval face with closed eyes is supported on both sides by two hands. The face is sliced like a clean loaf of bread, but the face is unflinching and content. More hands, bonier, hold it up from below: one clutching withered flowers while another appears to be pulling at a loose fabric of skin.But the drawing is not violent, representing instead people who have had presence in Mukhiya’s life.“I wanted to show how, even with their own problems, people hold on to us and support us,” explains Mukhiya.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111128/637218629c7e80680e0baa3cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="2000"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Elsewhere, a humanoid machine, complete with a dizzying assortment of cogs and wheels and four legs, looks at itself in a mirror, while its other hand carries a sleeping child.Mukhiya explains that this is simple thought exploration of collective consciousness: “I wonder if in future humanity, instead of evolving, transfers its consciousness onto machines.”The new pilgrim (2012) is more than a sci-fi study: it is also a commentary on present society where humans are encouraged to emulate machines and be mechanical and efficient.Apparatus (2019), a charcoal on paper explores the deficiencies of systemic rote in education. In what looks like an old, black-and-white class photograph, students and teachers sit in rows, dressed in blazers. A spool of thread twists around them, like prison bars.But here’s a twist: the students have nails and screws instead of heads. The heads of the teachers are hammers. This is a haunting piece that speaks for itself.At once spiritual and scientifically curious, Sapana (2015) is reminiscent of the films by Terry Gilliam where the lines between fantasy and reality are blurred to the extent that one seamlessly blends into another. A sleeping figure’s mind wanders in fragments to a dreamscape as a gust of wind blows a flurry of leaves that loop around the canvas before finally settling on another tree at the centre.So much is happening. In the right-top corner, a recently dispossessed bird takes flight with its eyes set on a floating well. A door opens as a cloud of smoke – or are they waves? – billow in the background. Bubbles fly about in silence, like atoms or little pockets of the universe.Mukhiya explains, “The physical universe outside us is infinite, we can see only a small part. And if we pause and look within, we can see that the universe in us, which is our consciousness, is just as vast and endless.”<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114111128/637218669c7e80680e0baa3djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1131" height="1750"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Mukhiya’s cerebral work is a testament to his lifelong fascination with life and the interaction between our consciousness and the socio-cultural stage. SAPANA is his 15th show overall and he is not trying to show life the way it is, giving shape to a creative process influenced by discourses on mental health, multiverses, memories. He was most recently part of the 'Crème de le Crème 2020' juried exhibition by Visual Arts Guild of Frisco in Texas.“I think a lot, no matter where I am or what I am doing,” the artist confesses. “And I do not draw or paint to simply draw or paint. I look for a story, an idea, I create narratives, some of which take years to incubate until the right form appears.”SAPANA is the result of this meditation, an explosive mix of strangeness and calm, like the notion of cosmological singularity or the Big Bang.SAPANAby Samridh MukhiyaSiddhartha Art Gallery, Baber Mahal RevisitedMonday - Friday: 11am -5pmSunday: 12pm - 5pmTill 24th May 2022

The imaginarium of Samridh Mukhiya

<figure><img width="2419" height="1613" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c8b9c7e80680e0b7877jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Krishna Bhakta Dangol, "What makes us fight", Acrylic on terracotta. All Photos: MONIKA DEUPALA.</figcaption></figure>There is a widely circulated image of King Gyanendra taken at his <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-would-still-be-a-monarchy/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">post-royal massacre</a> coronation in 2001. The golden throne is visibly aged, chipping at the base. Gyanendra is sombre as he looks ahead under the crown, his hands clasped, his left leg resting upon the red velvet hassock.Perhaps it is to do with the camera or the weather,  but the image looks cooler, taken during a pre-monsoon rain.A rendition of the same image looms large in the gallery at Yala Maya Kendra in Patan, where an exhibition of traditional and contemporary art titled Kholo 25 is underway.  <figure><img width="6720" height="4480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c8e9c7e80680e0b7878jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>But this one is a starkly different image. To begin with, it is not a photograph. Artist Kailash K Shrestha’s enormous acrylic on canvas shows a king sitting on the coronation throne, but sans face, sans hands.The famous crown of the Shah kings of Nepal hangs in the air, heavy, unsure. Who will grab it next?The painting is also aptly titled Occurrence before Federal Democratic Republic of Nepal – words that once were so full of promise, now reduced to being the punchline of a disillusioned joke, a mere vanishing act.The painting invites a more abstract reading. A viewer’s eyes shift from one point to another as there is no face and no immediately recognisable human trait.Faces and names have been pared off to reveal <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/nepal-from-royal-to-republic,3736" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">an institution of glittering crowns and thrones</a> – a statement on <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepals-rudderless-political-leadership/">the nature of power</a> and the meaning of monarchy itself. <img width="6720" height="4480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c929c7e80680e0b7879jpeg.jpg" alt="">Curated by Ujen Norbu Gurung, Kholo 25 brings 22 artists working in Nepal to address the shifting tides, perception and faith in Nepali society and politics.The exhibition is named after the Mani-kholo, prayer wheels in Buddhist shrines, to symbolise cycles of time, thought, experience and growth, and to expand the dictionary of creativity and expression.A collateral event with <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/redefining-art-at-kathmandu-triennale-2077/">the ongoing Kathmandu Triennale 2077</a>, the exhibition showcases 14 young and rising Nepali artists alongside eight established and senior ones, also highlighting the significance of helping launch younger artists in the current climate of Nepali art.  <figure><img width="2822" height="1882" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c969c7e80680e0b787ajpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Kishor Jyoti’s Clash of the class is a semi-mythical painting that looks like a panel from the Mahabharat, if not for the leopard-headed naked torso attached to another robotic body.It is a fitting companion to Kailash Shrestha’s work, showing the battle between the elite and the working-class, as the middle-class tries to referee, or even join in. An andromorphic jackal (wolf?) snarls from a golden chariot, brandishing a whip over its head. There is a dog in the middle, also barking at the leopard. It is a ferocious work, loud and violent. One can almost hear the growling tension and the thundering sky behind. Moreover, on the opposite wall is the true horror: a real clash of arms and ideologies, suffered by the Nepali people whose loss and grief continues to be unaccounted for. Photographs from the 2007 book <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=13243#.YiTX8ftBzOQ">A People War</a> curated by Kunda Dixit taken during the Maoist insurgency show people hugging the bodies of their dead husbands, children hurt, a woman washing blood off the front of her shop, several men carrying moving the dead remains. <figure><img width="640" height="427" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c999c7e80680e0b787bjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“Most discourse on the war is only in terms of the numbers,” says curator Gurung, who compares the different political establishments in Nepal to shifting cages (a subject of Kishor Jyoti’s another painting in the exhibition).“But the meaning behind those numbers is being forgotten, erased. What was the price the people were really made to pay?”All this reminds us of the violent reality of the world outside — <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/ukraines-lessons-for-sandwiched-nations-like-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Ukraine</a>, Yemen, Syria and the never-ending brutality in world history. <figure><img width="6720" height="4480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720c9e9c7e80680e0b787cjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The politics of being is central here here. From the meditations of memory – Teesha Shrestha’s mixed-media works depicting the deities and Newa heritage (in gold) being swallowed by the dark clouds of ash and thoughtless urbanisation – to masked shapes, faces, ideals and cages, the art is linked by the questions of body, of freedom, history, and individual and collective responsibilities. Above on the first floor, however, the atmosphere is the exact opposite. Following the traditional paubha paintings above of deities on various kholo around the room call for introspection and compassion.  <img width="6720" height="4480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720ca29c7e80680e0b787djpeg.jpg" alt=""><figure><img width="6720" height="4480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720ca79c7e80680e0b787ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The two floors are not so separate as may seem at first glance. Both the harsher reality downstairs and the calmer, philosophic upstairs encourage the viewer to ask: what is धर्म (Dharma)? “Despair is so commonplace now,” says Gurung, “that we don’t even think about it anymore. There is a disconnection with our Dharma, and we are not even compassionate to our own family members.”As one stands before Saru Prajapati’s Padmapani Lokeshvara or Rabi Shrestha’s Avalokitesvara, under the warm, lulling lighting, there indeed arrives a deep sense of love and awe. <figure><img width="6720" height="4480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720caa9c7e80680e0b787fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="6720" height="4480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101136/63720caf9c7e80680e0b7880jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Reality is often overwhelming and disturbing, and we look for a recourse to help us heal and deal with it. Religion, gods, philosophy is one way: perhaps, art is another.Gurung recalls an artist friend of his jokingly asking him once: “When shall we pick rocks and take to the streets?”He believes that we are all contributing one way or another, whether subtly from our homes or on the road tackling expired tear-gas shells.“As artists,” he says, “our craft, their voice and expression are just as loud and forceful as sticks and stones.”Kholo 2532 Cycles of LifeDhokaima Café, Yala Maya Kendra, PatanContemporary section: Till 15 March 2022Traditional section: Till 29 March 2022Closed on Mondays

The wheel of time and thought

<figure><img width="2848" height="1518" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637209089c7e80680e0b551djpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>After being put off by the pandemic, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/art-on-the-city-kathmandu-triennale,3607" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal’s largest art festival</a> is finally being held from 11 February - 31 March in venues across Kathmandu Valley.The Kathmandu Triennale 2077 will be held in three historically significant clusters of Patan, Kathmandu and Boudha with over 300 artworks by national and international artists, collectives and groups from over 40 other nations, including the Philippines, Haiti, Nigeria, Afghanistan, Myanmar and France. Initially slated for 2020, this will be the fourth edition of the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19783#.WNOrCdJ97IU" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Kathmandu International Art Festival</a>, as it was known previously, and second in the Triennale format.  <figure><img width="2692" height="2089" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/6372090b9c7e80680e0b551ejpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The curatorial team is led by Artistic Director Cosmin Costinas and co-curators Sheelasha Rajbhandari and Hit Man Gurung, and the Triennale by its founder Sangeeta Thapa and director Sharareh Bajracharya. The artists will display a diverse range of media from photography, paintings to installations, and explore the issues and themes of displacement, migration, the People’s War, tantrik practices, identity and more.The curatorial concept of the Triennale is rooted in acknowledging the local and indigenous multiplicity of Nepal, moving away from an Eurocentric canon of art history and appreciation. The name of the event, Kathmandu Triennale 2077 is itself a significant shift in locality and perspective. Read also:<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/art-and-resistance-in-south-asia/">Art and resistance in South Asia</a>, Sushmita Preetha and Priyanka Singh<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/latest/how-art-empowers-nepals-women/">How art empowers Nepal’s women</a>, Anita Bhetwal <figure><img width="1240" height="1754" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637209109c7e80680e0b551fjpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>“Originally we had planned to call it Kathmandu Triennale 2020, but then the pandemic hit,” explains Sheelasha Rajbhandari. “That called for a reorientation of sorts and rebranding. We risked confusing people outside the country, but it was a step towards reclaiming our place in the art world.” The Gregorian year 2020 is 2077 in the Bikram Sambat calendar officially used in Nepal. It is also a little playful, since 2077 is still half a century off in the future in the Gregorian calendar. “That was intentional,” Rajbhandari says. “It adds a futuristic element to the show, we wanted to consider time not just as a linear concept.” Hit Man Gurung adds that the Triennale is not just an exhibition, but includes research projects, conversation programs, with long and detailed behind-the-scenes preparation, which began in 2019. So, even though the Triennale is taking place in 2022, the number 2077 more closely symbolises the confluence of past, present and future that has shaped it.  “It was a strategic decision,” Gurung adds. “Referring also to the real beginning of the preparation has helped create a unique identity of the Kathmandu Triennale.” <figure><img width="1507" height="896" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637209139c7e80680e0b5520jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Founder Sangeeta Thapa who also established <a href="https://www.facebook.com/artgallerysiddhartha" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Siddartha Art Gallery</a> describes the two years of pandemic that re-routed the Triennale as "a wrinkle in time”.“Time stood still, and the Triennale stood still. It was important also to acknowledge the stillness, the global suffering,” she says.So the title stayed. In addition to looking back, the curators also continued the practice of inclusive and diverse practices that have shaped the Triennale since its beginnings in 2009.“Artists will cover a diverse range of topics, such as reclaiming identity, decolonisation, voices of the LGBTQ community and activism,” she says. “It is also a reflection of the diversity around us.”<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Taking-art-out-in-the-open,3250" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Nepal and Nepali artists</a>, especially those who hail from Indigenous communities, are often left out of the global discourse of art, and sometimes even in the native South Asia. The Triennale aims to celebrate the diverse backgrounds, explore deep-rooted interconnectivity between communities, while rejecting the colonial-inspired exoticisation of the Himalaya as a mythical utopia. <figure><img width="1024" height="429" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637209179c7e80680e0b5521jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The Triennale does not have a theme as such. Gurung thinks they can be distracting.  “They may give a semblance of specificity, but the artists, their works and the collective behind the Triennale are part of a process, and the discourse initiated or informed should continue beyond the event itself,” he adds. The Triennale will also feature bilingual curatorial cards, says Sharareh Bajracharya, who brings her experience in art education. “We are bringing communities together and making conscious efforts to reach out to schools and people from different disciplines,” she says.Workshops, discussions, talks and tours are integral components of the Triennale, and it will blend virtual and physical events. Online program will take place from 11-28 February before the physical venues open on 1 March 2022.“The online programs will be very discursive and will focus on contextualising the exhibitions, sharing narratives, presenting publications and thoughts by contributors who have worked on the Triennale,” says Bajracharya. <figure><img width="1857" height="2192" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114101120/637209199c7e80680e0b5522jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The first three days of March will feature programs at the venues, which have been chosen for their historical and cultural significance. Exhibitions will take place at the Patan Museum, the Bahadur Shah Baithak, Nepal Art Council, Taragaon Museum and Siddhartha Art Gallery.“We will try to go live on social media so that more people can join,” she adds, “but we do want to maintain the physical exhibition. There will nonetheless also be a 3D documentation of the exhibitions.”Kathmandu Triennale 2077 promises to foster a healthy art ecology based on the exchange of knowledge through an expansive exhibition combined with a strong educational outreach program. It is a non-commercial, non-profit exhibition which is free of charge and open to all.The Triennale is presented by Siddhartha Arts Foundation and Nepal’s Ministry of Culture, Tourism, and Civil Aviation, and supported by its partner institution <a href="https://www.para-site.art" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Para Site in Hong Kong</a>, where the precursory exhibition <a href="https://www.para-site.art/exhibitions/garden-of-six-seasons/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Garden of Six Seasons</a> was presented in 2020.The Kathmandu Triennale 2077 is also taking place at a time when Nepal is preparing to <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-art-debut-in-venice/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">inaugurate its pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia in April</a>. Co-incidentally, after the Triennale is over, a selection of works will travel to <a href="https://savvy-contemporary.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Savvy Contemporary in Berlin</a> in June. “We had planned to make a travel exhibition before the pandemic, partnering with institutions all over the world,” Gurung recalls. “It is very lucky and encouraging that Berlin is happening now.”<a href="https://www.kathmandutriennale.org/">Kathmandu Triennale 2077</a> 11 February-31 March<a href="https://www.kathmandutriennale.org/">https://www.kathmandutriennale.or</a>

Redefining art at Kathmandu Triennale 2077

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f569c7e80680e0af45djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="2046" height="1377"/><figcaption>Lambe. All photos: BHARAT RAI.</figcaption></figure>Bharat Rai's ongoing exhibition ‘Whistle Blower’ at Ekantakuna's <a href="https://windhorseartgallery.com">Wind Horse Gallery</a> is a quasi-surreal take on the world of tourism and mountaineering. His first solo show of 35 paintings do not show Himalayan peaks but the often-overlooked state of tourism, modernism and consumerism.You will find few mountains here. The white background in the canvases is the closest thing to snow and clouds. The real protagonists are the <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Equus-in-brick-kilns-kathmandu,4085">mules, donkeys and the burden on their backs</a>. We can almost hear their rusty bells punctuating the silence of their unsung endurance.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f599c7e80680e0af45ejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1420" height="1437"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>One of the first paintings that comes into view as visitors climb the staircase to the vast gallery is called Lale: a brown mule leaping with its tail up in the air. Its dark, melancholic eyes gaze ahead as the blue sacks on its back weigh it down. A long rope attaches the mule to a sealed Coca Cola bottle with crystallised rocks inside.The artwork is striking, and whimsical — a leaping animal tied to the ground by an empty bottle of soda. The bells around the neck and shoulders in the colourful harness look harmless at first, and we instantly recognise that these are the beasts of burden that make trekking and mountaineering possible, allowing those selfies on Kala Patar and summit certificates.But what of Lale, frozen as it tries to jump and break free, despite being held fast to the ground? Another mule, Dhurbe, is leaping off the back of a blue pick-up truck. Yet another looks dolefully at a miniature version of itself lying on its back with legs flailing upwards.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f5d9c7e80680e0af45fjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1786" height="1482"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>It may not be immediately noticeable, but the atmosphere of the paintings is indeed that of a false levity, draped in a foreboding silence of suffering.Silence pervades Rai's art: silence not volunteered but forced, and silence caught in motion. Rai's muses are mules and donkeys — always in the act of moving, whether away, towards, or in circles. They are flying, rolling and dancing even. Their desired destination is up the trail, but they appear to be protesting through their contortions — and their silence.Rai grew up around these equine heroes, spending over a decade in their company. His family profession was moving cargo on mule trains up and down the Solu Khumbu trail before motor cars and jeeps took over. He has shared his feelings and worries more with mules than humans, and this very empathy influences his art.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f609c7e80680e0af460jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1863" height="1536"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>'Most visitors and strangers would tell me about the creatures', writes Rai in his statement, 'saying that they would cry if they did not get heavy loads!' But, as evidenced by his paintings, the mules do not look happy to be carrying all those sacks and cylinders.On the contrary, they are tired, beaten and eager to break free of their tethers. The animals have names, distinct characters and personalities. In a way these downtrodden animals are symbolic of the silent disenfranchised citizens of our country. Abused, exploited, excluded, collectively derided.The effect is twofold. While the animals are taken as symbols of simplicity and foolishness (and thus abused), by using them as metaphors Rai draws our attention also to the cruelty and micro-aggression directed towards the people living on the margins.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f649c7e80680e0af461jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1484" height="2048"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110161156/636d1f689c7e80680e0af462jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1484" height="2048">Melody of Shovel (left) and Hero (right)Some paintings depict items scattered around mountaineering camps: steel plates, cylinders, rusty wheelbarrows, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-building-a-highway-to-everest/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">a yellow excavator</a> and a sewing machine practically falling apart. One canvas has a rolled-up roti held together by a safety pin. There is a larger statement here against the recklessness, entitlement and egotism of mountain visitors.Despite these undercurrents, ‘Whistle Blowers’ is not a pessimistic show. It is more a call to action to be more mindful, more conscious. Our four-legged mountain friends are not indentured servants, but beings with dreams and hopes of their own.We are conditioned to imagine nobility in horses and ridicule donkeys. Rai subverts these notions by inviting us to look into the eyes of mules as muses.‘Whistle Blowers’ by Bharat RaiWind Horse Gallery, Bhanimandal-Ekantakuna Road, Lalitpur10am-6pm (closed on Mondays)Limited visitors in the hall. Masks mandatory.Till 17 January 2022.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/on-screen-mountains/">On-screen mountains</a>, Sahina Shrestha<a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-next-for-reinhold-messner/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">What next for Reinhald Messner?</a>, Kunda Dixit

exhibition