A first look at The Red Cat and Other Stories might lead you to believe that it’s a storybook for children, owing to its cursive, almost decorative font on the cover. There’s a combination of two sets of handwriting that belong to the author’s sisters. For those who know Ritesh Uttamchandani as a photographer, this first impression of his debut book just doesn’t sit right. But after, looking through the images within, you’re reassured of it being the good old photo book you would expect from Uttamchandani.
Eventually though, you might realise that your initial assessment wasn’t far from the truth either. Uttamchandani makes his debut about both — the stories that unravel through the images and the accompanying text — as a fable recounted from his childhood, running alongside like a subtext. One that meets the viewer like a quiet surprise at the end, guarded by none other than the red cat herself, seated precariously on a loose sheet of paper.
Layered testimony
Uttamchandani’s world is a mixed weave, drawing in the city of Mumbai and in extension the country, as also his personal journey as a son, brother and photographer. The images signal to a definite photojournalistic eye, yet one often blurring boundaries between social documentary or commentary and just pure photography that requires no category. From someone who has lensed the city for close to a decade-and-a-half since his first stint as an intern with the Indian Express in 2004, one expects work that is more than just visually enchanting. What Uttamchandani gives you in these layered testimonies of the city are his personal insights, not a ringside view of movie stars and monuments, but more that of an observer by the sidewalk.
“First thing, I knocked off all the landmarks out. There’s a photo of Marine Drive but you don’t know it’s Marine Drive,” shares Uttamchandani, arguing that in the age of Google Earth and Instagram, it makes no sense to revisit these hackneyed haunts of which a million images exist online. Standing against the window ledge at his suburban home, holding up a page from the book against the light, he cites the almost opaqueness and whiteness as his reasons for choosing the expensive Mont Blanc paper to display the 98 images — all shot on phone cameras, between 2013-2018.
With next to no editing on the images, the book, one of the few to be made from phone images in recent times, is a marked success in terms of homogeneity in quality and tone. The book’s 7x7 size and square format augment its appeal to the point, where it’s hard to guess which camera the images were shot on.
Making a book
What started as an effort to take stock of his work every few months by making 5x5 prints, while creating a physical archive, lead Uttamchandani to create his own book. “…I realised in the process that I’m a very different photographer on the phone and I’m a very different photographer on the DSLR. [With the phone] I like the fact that I don’t have to think…it’s beautiful, it’s like you’re starting out all over again…I’m free to do what I love doing, noticing everything, talking to people. It gives me that schizophrenic focus — idhar dekh raha hai, udhar shoot kar raha hai, (looking one way, shooting the other) ” he ends with quirky humour, typical of his images as well. While you can’t help but chuckle seeing a few of Uttamchandani’s photos, the book takes on a meandering course emotionally — from facing the loss of loved ones to the sublimity of children wading through fumigation clouds — a moment that’s both ironical and yet telling of this city of tough love. The same applies to choosing an open spine reflective of a culture of “ jugaad ” or quick fixes that desis identify with.
As a means to navigate through the daunting task of a first-ever publication, Uttamchandani set up certain rules. While some, like the change of season implied midway through the book might be lost on the viewer, the red letters that jump out in the text, make sense only once you have read the fable — “an excellent metaphor for everything that you see in the book”. In either case, Uttamchandani gives you enough reasons to revisit and explore several different readings of the book. A flippable page of captions on either end is a thoughtful touch, empathetic to the viewer’s experience.
Telling a story
Uttamchandani’s premier book project, almost self-designed and sustained on pre-orders, got timely help from both friends and unexpected quarters across the globe. “…if you overproduce the book, it will suck…which was the greatest advice ever,” he states, recalling what a stranger-turned-friend from Netherlands had to say. For someone who’d had enough of seeing, “high contrast black and white images year after year” from fellow Indian photographers in recent times, Uttamchandani felt compelled to try something new, even if it meant taking risks or investing real time and effort in self-education. “As photographers, as storytellers, we have to ensure that we keep the cost down, we reach more people…The more books we as a community make, sooner or later a market will happen and publishers might just step in.” But business aside, there was always the other core reason that steered Uttamchandani along, “…basically I just wanted to tell a story.”
The Red Cat and Other Stories is available for ₹1,400/- (discounts for students and children) on www.riteshuttamchandani.com
