Anita Khemka & Imran Kokiloo: Shared Solitude
© Anita Khemka & Imran Kokiloo/PHOTOINK
As an artist / photographer what do you question through your work and why?
“Our collaborative practice is a constant exploration of the relationship between memory and identity. Currently, our work is focused on the idea of how collective memory is intrinsically developed and nurtured within a commonly shared geography, thus giving space to concepts of self, character, culture, ethnicity and nationality.
We use the personal archive, photographs, animation, sound, printmaking and installation to create works.”
Shared Solitude
Shared Solitude was born out of a literal and forced—isolation as a result of a family emergency coinciding with the very unplanned and brutal lockdown, enforced by a political system hell-bent on being seen as decisive. It made us question the status quo we had grown accustomed to and the dichotomy of our daily lives. One of our early sitters, Ishita echoed our views, “Living in lockdown has been a revelation. I’ve realized that [certain] relationships, having time to read, being with dogs, and having enough meaningful work in the day is enough for me — this is all I would like to keep in my life.” This burgeoning clarity and purpose about one’s life, we realized, was shared by many people. This project thus set out to excavate memory, the joyous and painful, and confronts the universal dilemma of ownership, possession and letting go.
* The text under each image is quoted by the people photographed.
All images below: ©Anita Khemka & Imran Kokiloo / PHOTOINK
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Untitled III
“There is something very ceremonial about getting a portrait done, even while living under lockdown when life is slow-paced, reflective of a certain unease of being with our own selves living in shared solitude. The experience also leads to imagined memories — once we come out of that moment, we imagine what must have gone on and what it signifies; it’s like looking at a painting. I am reminded of Salman Rushdie’s book, Imaginary Homelands; we kind of project the memory into imagined spaces and I think that’s what photographs do and that’s what makes photographs interesting and sometimes also very telling and makes them art; that we are present in the moment and that there is something more to that presence.” — Nidheesh
Untitled IV
“We hadn’t taken a family portrait, in over twenty years. The last time the boys were ten and six years old and not yet touching four feet. Walking into that open-air studio, surrounded by giant trees, with birds and butterflies flitting around us, it was a sunny moment of family camaraderie, yet tinged with thoughts of the relationship I shared with my mother and then the relationship I now share, as a mother with my sons. Will the next portrait be of my sons and their families with my husband and I as a memory? These weren’t depressing thoughts, but gratitude for having had a life. For now, we will be framed for generations to come. It’s a cycle of life, we take too seriously, and I think sitting there, it was very emotional. Yet every time I looked far away into the distance I really couldn’t see into the future." — Ayesha Misra
Untitled VIII
“I thought the wheelchair to be an indicator of my father’s presence and that was in essence a portrait of our family in these times of lockdown. The wheelchair stood where my father would have stood if he were there right now getting our photograph done together. It’s just an empty wheelchair instead of him right now, but still, it’s something, which is worth a lot to us to have him even in his absence, somewhat present. It’s hard to explain this, but I kind of feel that I will get a sense of his presence. Our family is not complete without him and in this photograph, I think I will be able to feel him.” — Manjeera
Untitled XIV
“During the early days of the lockdown, I struggled emotionally to find the right balance to deal with issues of my aged parents living 1600 miles away on their own, my partner who’d gone to care for her ailing mother and my daughters who couldn’t understand why life around them had taken this sudden turn. I started to think of what a family is built on and how within a shared space, we navigate between what is truly individual and what becomes familial. Seeing the families who sat for us through a 6 cm x 7 cm window and within the confines of the frame I had chosen and waiting for the moment to press the shutter, felt like a responsibility as an outsider looking inside someone else’s home. Doing the same for my family and devoid of similar responsibility, I saw my daughters as distinct individuals juxtaposed against an early portrait of two of the most important women in my life — my sisters, who hang inside a frame in the larger frame of my family portrait. With this thought of ever evolving and changing family portraits, I was left with a feeling which was that of resignation as well anticipation— resignation to the larger act of life being played out and not being able to bring in all the members of my family I would have liked to and anticipation at the thought of my daughters looking out into the future.”— Imran Kokiloo
Untitled XXVI
“Growing up queer isn’t easy in any part of the world. You are always looking for acceptance and a stamp of approval. I am constantly coming out, having to tell people that no, I am not with a dude and that Dipalie IS my partner; that I am with another woman. It is a constant process and hugely frustrating. For my family portrait, it was Dipalie, me and Bradfoot. Even when I talk about this, it puts a smile to my face because, I am like yes, this is MY family. Up till now I know I have said that Dipalie is my partner and this is my family and all of those things, but the family portrait somehow just sort of added a layer of cement to the feeling that this IS my family. It made me feel like yeah, I have grown up, I have my own house and I have my wife and my pup. You know you are starting out life with a partner and all the joy that comes with it is what happened when you made my family portrait.” — Ayesha Vasdev
Untitled XXXIII
"that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."
- Alfred Lord Tennyson
To not yield - that has been the guiding sentiment and also the antidote as well as elixir to triumph over each day over the past year. All that and a bag full of promises, some fulfilled and others yet to dawn. My mother's empty chair, her walking stick (her presence while she travels), my friend's feline, a load of Tin Tins, the scrubs I have on, serve to fuel the "why, that can bear anyhow".
— Junaid Shafi
Untitled XXXIV
"I did not realize when it happened, but I had transitioned into a storyteller over the years and what better than pens and books to make the frame as personal as possible. An important addition to the frame is that single teapot since we both love Darjeeling tea and drink it the same way. The icing of course was that since our wedding, we had never been photographed together. I don’t count those timer shots during vacations where you have to compose and run to fill your spot for the odd, despicable selfie that floods our spaces every day. So, the result of this portrait shoot will either be a personal memory of a very stressful time with no end in sight or become someone else’s insight into the beginning of the end." –– Ushinor
Untitled XXXV
“Sitting for the portrait took me to a time spent with my parents, when things were quieter and slower, the way it’s pretty much been during the lockdown. Both Naina and I wanted to capture this time period, this memory that we are sharing with one another in photographs. After sitting for the portrait, there was this great urge in me to pen something down to remember this very interesting experience so I wrote this little piece, which I would like to share with you:
"There are places some, places that return the color on your lips.
Like apples polished and glistening, laying on tables ready for a feast.
Places that long for the return of friends and love, hopeful and pristine in their belief. Places that make you think of your childhood home and grateful that far you may have gone, but you never really left.”
— Preeti
>> Visit the exhibition Shared Solitude
About ANITA KHEMKA & IMRAN KOKILOO
Anita Khemka (b. 1972) studied English Literature at Delhi University and Visual
Merchandizing at La Salle, Singapore. Her photographic praxis of over twenty-five years has
focused on the lives of socially marginalized and excluded groups and communities. She
started collaborating with her partner Imran Kokiloo in 2017 and the duo has since focussed on
working on Kashmir.
She has exhibited widely in Europe and is engaged with The MurthyNAYAK Foundation to work
on PhotoSouthAsia, a site dedicated to South Asian photography practices. She lives in
Nainital, Uttarakhand with her partner and two daughters and is represented by PHOTOINK.
Imran B Kokiloo (b. 1978) started photography in 2017 in collaboration with his partner Anita
Khemka. Their first series titled Kashmir: Pellet Identity was exhibited at FotoFest Houston
(2018) and a print is in the permanent collection of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. He
continues to produce work on Kashmir, which he defines as his lifelong endeavour. His work
was shortlisted for the Grand Prix Images Vevey, Switzerland (2019). The duo was selected for
an artist residency program in Switzerland supported by Pro Helvetia (2022). They exhibited
their work titled Kashmir: The Making Of A Family Album at the Verzasca Foto Festival (2022),
and Kashmir: I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell at the Landskrona Foto Festival (2022). Their
work made during the global COVID pandemic, titled Shared Solitude was exhibited at
PHOTOINK, New Delhi (2021).
The duo has been awarded the Umrao Singh Sher-Gil grant for photography for the category
"the constructed image"; 2022 for their project Tales from Kashmir.
Anita Khemka & Imran Kokiloo: http://www.anitakhemka.com/
>> Visit the exhibition Shared Solitude