Until Bhupen Khakhar’s ‘Two Men in Benaras’ in 1982, there was little by way of contemporary homoerotic expression in art in India. Khakhar’s work, which shows two nude men in a close embrace, came as a substantial, direct, and strong affirmation of the gay movement that was gaining ground the world over at the time. But such expressions in the Indian context, via cinema, theatre, literature and art, have remained few and far between.
Into this, created almost three decades later, and in order to add to the meagre art around same-sex love, is Jijo Kuriakose’s photo
series, part of a group show called ‘Homomorphism II’, set to open at Kerala Museum in Kochi. In 2015, Kuriakose held an earlier version of the show, also conceptualised by Queerala, an outfit he has co-founded to bring more visibility to gay issues. In the latest photo series, Kuriakose trains the camera on the specifics of intimacy between male bodies.
Kuriakose came out as gay five years ago, but the inspiration to use photographs to talk about it was sparked after a visit to museums in Europe where he observed the tender pain in men depicted during the Holocaust. “There were men with flowers and ‘I miss you’ messages, definitely a call to a boyfriend,” says Kuriakose.
The male gaze, Kuriakose believes, has almost always been associated with man’s desire for a woman, but it can also be a man’s desire for another man. “If two men are sitting together, we assume they are friends, but if they are gay there is a consciousness about the physical relationship they may share.”
How good he looks!
Kuriakose hangs out at Rainbow Nest, a pad for the LGBTQI community in Kochi. That’s the only place where he can truly “let himself be”. “Sexual desire is a part of daily life, but is it possible for gay men to talk about it as easily as it is for heterosexual men? On seeing an attractive man, another man should easily be able to say, ‘Kya mast lag raha hai’ (how good he looks). This need is completely overlooked, as if it does not exist.”
Research scholar Sumitra Sundar, who writes on queer practices in Indian art, places Kuriakose’s work within a spectrum where ‘queer’ is an umbrella term for the expression of multiple identities. “His work comments on the ways in which male desire is expressed and even fetishised,” she says.
Sundar cites Mandeep Raikhy’s ‘Queen Size’, a performance piece that talks about Article 377 criminalising homosexuality, and which has men desiring men in a graphic and sensuous way, their bodies desirable to men and to whoever may be looking. Sundar says that queer art practice and queering art practice are important ways to dismantle heteropatriarchal ways of representing desire, which, in the queer spectrum, is seen as deviant. This deviant body could be androgynous or could be adhering to gender binaries, but could appeal to the opposite.
If Kuriakose’s photographs are seen as protest art, then it is in the creating of images that provoke thought. As Sundar says, “Queer art practice is in essence a way to break free from heteronormative ways of looking and expressing.”
The identification of physical love as homosexual and heterosexual happened in the 19th century when Sigmund Freud and later Michel Foucault along with other social scientists began writing about it.
It was in the 60s that a full-fledged gay and lesbian rights movement began in the U.S. and caught on across Europe. It was in these years too that queer cultural expression gathered steam.
Queer culture
The next watershed period was the 80s, when the HIV-AIDS epidemic spread and gay people were targeted as carriers. It was also a time of liberation for Blacks and women, of the birth of hip-hop, and greater visibility for third-world and subaltern narratives. Queer art rode this wave as it swept the world.
Ironically, in these decades, India regressed despite having a rich legacy of gender fluidity and sexual freedom in its mythology, traditions and art. The British had declared same-sex liaisons unnatural and criminal, and the criminalisation continues to this day.
Pride Marches took time to come here, but slowly collectives were formed across the country — Humsafar Trust (1994) in Mumbai, Sangama and Garden Club in Bengaluru (started in the 90s).
In 1999, Hoshang Merchant’s Yaranna , an anthology of gay short stories came out, followed in 2000 by Same Sex Love in India , a compilation of poetry, mythology and stories edited by Saleem Kidwai and Ruth Vanita.
Gay academician Shivaji Panikkar, who teaches at Ambedkar University, says, “The representation of the male body is no less in Indian art. Shiva and Rama are represented most beautifully. In fact, Indian art sees no separation between male and female bodies; they are presented in a soft, hermaphrodite way. The effeminate was accepted as beautiful in pre-colonial times. Art, which has all the possibilities of expression, is a big platform to express the complexities of one’s desires.”
New-gen challenge
Khakhar’s art was a sort of turning point for the modern, triggering more expressions and a greater solidity to the movement. Jehangir Jani, a self-taught Mumbai-based sculptor, and the London-based photographer Sunil Gupta have also made significant contributions to LGBT themes, masculinity and male sexuality.
Works by Anita Dube that speak of male-female interchangeability, and Hijra Fantasy Series, a piece of video art by Tejal Shah, add to the growing body of work.
Early Greek, Roman and Indian art might have glorified male bodies, but the modern man, as Panikkar says, remains boring. Panikkar sees Kurikose’s works as changing this. As an attempt by a young and new-gen gay person to express his desires with vigour. “He sees the other man as a most beautiful sight. It excites him, invites him. There is roughness, rawness and spice in it.”
The focus of the 75 mostly black-and-white photographs is on body types — slim, beefy, sporty, dusky — captured in positions that create a curiosity in the spectator. The photographs catch the chemistry between the bodies, their tenderness and desire, the ennui as they relax. The setting is always Rainbow Nest, the pad where they are “most comfortable.”
The artist plans to publish his photographs, some revealing, some explosive, in a book titled Smiles, Stares and Male-Male Intimacy.
Until then, he says he will continue to curate more shows in the Homomorphism series, using art as a tool to force society to treat sexual yearnings of all individuals equally.
SHOW DATES: Homomorphism II:
