Prajakta Potnis’s (b. 1980, Thane/Mumbai) Peel and Peel Till You See the Outside is a site-specific work where adhesive is applied to a surface and then partially peeled off with the help of a blade. The effect after the peeling is eerie and mesmerizing: parts of the perfectly painted wall seem to be crumbling down. If Peel creates the illusion of infrastructure breaking down, Sewing takes the image of decay/deconstruction even further. In Sewing, adhesive is piped through a very small hole, resembling the henna technique prominent in South Asia. Black surgical threads are then stuck onto the glue to make visible the “cracks.” Sharp institutional critique can be read into these works Potnis, depending on the context in which it exists: Are the exhibition halls crumbling? Or is it the institution, or the exhibition itself?
Potnis’s practice dwells and thrives between the inside and the outside, the private and the public, which is often delineated by divisional structures such as doors, partitions, and walls. She is also interested in lapses of time, which can be results of sociopolitical changes, such as when the one-hour time difference between Mumbai and Kolkata was removed as India gained independence, or results of system failures, for example when sedition laws in certain places remained unchanged, even unquestioned, even though social norms have shifted. In these cases, changes and failures in the public realm impact and affect the private lives of individuals and communities. The making processes of Peel and Peel Till You See the Outside and Sewing highlight the role of labor which underlines not only production of individual art works, but also the apparatus of exhibition-making, which often straddles, transgresses, or even exploits private and public realms. SH + MW
self-presentation:
Precursor to the era of the multiplexes, watching Marathi plays at a prestigious theater was a regular practice amongst most middle-class Maharashtrians. This ritual eventually exposed me to the intricacies of Marathi theater, where plays staged against the backdrop of domestic spaces would mainly deal with human relationships. Stagecraft has always intrigued me; the way narratives get framed within a cardboard box, how a cutout within a wall implies a window, or walls with traces of adhesive tape appear collapsible. These gawkily staged walls made me curious about the fragile walls in middle-class homes; their inviting colors and alluring peeled textures had traces of history and inhabitance embedded within.
Living in Bombay, access to world cinema was possible through numerous film festivals. Post-art school, I enrolled in a film appreciation course. The complex psychological landscapes constructed by Andrei Tarkovsky, to the modern feminist films of Chantal Akerman, to the simple emotional narratives in Iranian films have all had a lasting impression on me.
Writings of Russian theorist Boris Groys and Sri Lankan feminist writer Kumari Jayawardena’s book Feminism and Nationalism in the Third World have particularly stayed with me.
