Vagina is out and breasts are in. Judy Chicago’s 1979 work,
the Dinner Party had brought in explicit vagina images on plates laid out on a
triangular table with the names of highly accomplished women embroidered and
etched on them. Megha Joshi, a Gurgaon based artist, creates a body of works
based on the image of breasts done in various mediums including ceramics,
fibreglass, rubber, prosthetic nipples, digital images of her own self and even
a pair of punch bags. This coming of age show, as far as Megha Joshi is
concerned, is titled ‘I: Object’ and is currently on view at the Art Konsult
Gallery in New Delhi. In a world where a woman receives hundred cat calls in
ten hours in public places, Megha Joshi’s ‘breasting’ through is a courageous
event in itself. She actively questions the male dominated world’s view of
breasts as sexualized objects and when she calls the show, ‘I: Object’, it gets
multiple meanings; on the one hand the title explains why ‘I’, the self of a
woman is always objectified and on the other hand, it is an emphatic protest, ‘I
OBJECT’ you making me a sexual/ized object. Woven completely into the discourse
of feminism, this set of works done by Megha, more than mooring itself on
feministic arguments, draws its force from the dejection and objection that the
artist as a human being feels in the contemporary society where she lives.
(Torso QED by Megha Joshi)
Once upon a time, as mythologies say it, Indra, the king of
gods, ogled at a saintly woman with lustful eyes. Cursed by her sagacious
husband, Gautama, Indra grew thousand eyes/vaginas all over his body and he had
to go in hiding till he was relieved of this gaping burden. Men consider vagina
as a curse, but he wants to see the woman only as a vagina. While Indra felt
that it was a shame, women do not feel so though the objectification of their
physical self as a vagina is always resisted, protested and even contested. In
public domain, breasts are seen as an extension of female genitals and in I:
Object, Megha Joshi lampoons such a deranged perspective of the male world by
overplaying the mammary images in various mediums. Covered in mild sarcasm,
Megha Joshi dispassionately displays the violence involved in the breast fetish
of men by making permutations and combinations of breasts and nipple images in
all the possible shapes and images. ‘Nipple’ becomes the marker here in these
works as the moment a prosthetic nipple appears on to any surface, in the male
eyes it turns out to be a surrogate breast.
(Droop by Megha Joshi)
Megha Joshi’s tryst with breast forms started when she was
literally devastated by the news of Nirbhaya’s rape in December, 2012. In a
show titled ‘R.A.P.E’ (Rare Acts of Political Engagement) curated by me in Art
Konsult in 2013, Megha for the first time presented a pair of rubber horns used
in old buses and trucks, fitted with prosthetic nipples. The bulbous form that
resembled a pair of breasts had generated a lot of discussion in the art scene
at that time. By picking the line of thought that she had employed in creating
that work, she has walked further to problematize gender issues in stark visual
terms. Reminding one of Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party, Megha too presents ceramic
plates with breast forms embellished by peacock feather images, followed by a
series of ceramic forms with ‘nipples’ further beautified by sequins and
embroideries. Absolute take away forms, these works could challenge the aesthetically
drawn ‘breasts and vaginas’ commonly seen in the modern and contemporary art.
In dried gourd shells, when Megha pasts the prosthetic nipples they transform
into sagging breasts, literally shaming a male onlooker, in the meanwhile
rousing the curiously of a female onlooker. In a series of digital photographs
and prints on canvases, Megha proves that fitted anywhere on the body including
the open palms and elbows, nipple forms could turn that area into sexually
potent breasts. In these works, Megha in a performative act, opens her own body
up for public viewing, at the same time cleverly avoids all the traps of
generic titillation possible in such kind of works.
In a series of fibre glass sculptures, Megha evokes
classical Greek sculpture references from art history. Taking a leaf from the
Victory of Samothrace, she detaches the wings from the main body of the forward
marching goddess Nike (2nd c BC) and places them on a breasted root
base. The artist seems to say that women want to fly like a goddess but her
roots are too deep in tradition, she cannot but remain steady in one place
flapping her ineffectual wings. Another classical Greek female torso is
cannibalized by Megha through the act of artistic irreverence as she plucks out
the nipples from her breasts and places them on her buttocks. The reversal of
nipple positions evokes the sad but sharp truth of men gazing at women and
turning them as mere sexual objects, as seen in the illustrious work of Barbara
Kruger (Your Gaze Hits the Side of My Face). One of the most interesting works is
a beautiful conversion of a pair of speed bags/balls used in boxing practice.
By pasting a pair of nipples on these speed bags, they suddenly turn into a
pair of breasts, open to be punched by the curious onlookers. There is a pair
of boxing gloves ready on the table.
(Sensor/Censor I, II, III, IV by Megha Joshi)
While looking at the works of Megha Joshi, one gets the
feeling that she has more to articulate through these breasts images/forms. She
wants to use more images, more mediums and more surfaces; a sense of
overwhelming that an artist gets when the issue she deals with becomes
overwhelming that the artistic outcome itself. Without titillating, the show
holds our attention. Unlike other contemporary women artists who get into blood and
gore, anatomy and veins, Megha has done a clean job and put her point across
the society. May be, some may say they are too prosaic and loud, but to me
these works announces the arrival of an artist who could speak about her body
and its constant conversion into a sex object in the public domain. Megha’s
works belong to protest art and it has to be a bit loud to be heard. But
protest art could be beautiful too and Megha’s works are beautiful. They look
at you with their nipples/eyes/I-s. And you freeze. Megha holds a mirror at a
man’s eyes, quite unexpectedly and the reflection shames him. Megha has arrived
with a thud...now what next. That I leave to the artist to decide.
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