Puducherry-based photographer Sebastian Cortés has this time turned his focus on the Bohra community of Sidhpur — in the Patan district of Gujarat, India — to explore their living spaces, which are a symbol of a bygone era. His exhibition, Sebastian Cortés - Sidhpur: Time Present Time Past, organised by Tasveer, was part of the New Delhi gallery’s 9th season of exhibitions, in partnership with Vacheron Constantin and The Singleton of Glen Ord.
The exhibition, comprising 45 photographs, offered an insight into the architectural influences of these spaces, ranging from Persian and Hindu to European and Islamic designs.
Cortés, who has travelled all over the world, moved to India in 2004. Since then, he has documented parts of the country through his lens. In 2010, he went beyond the walls and explored the private sphere, homes, spaces and routines of the inhabitants of the coastal town of Puducherry.
After spending two-and-a-half years researching the exteriors and interiors of the town’s cityscape and documenting it, he held an exhibition showcasing the town in all its faded glory.
In 2013, he travelled to Sidhpur, a small Indian city, to photograph the Bohra community and capture their rich architectural heritage and unique houses. He succeeded in capturing traces of the community’s past lives that persist in the facades of buildings, empty rooms, doors, windows, stairways and other distinguishing features of the architecture.
Born to an Italian mother and Peruvian father, Cortés took up photography in 1980 at the New York University film school and later earned recognition as a fashion and lifestyle photographer.
He moved to Milan in 1985 and started fashion and lifestyle photography for international magazines and corporate clients, while also concentrating on portraits and fine-art works.
In 1996, he produced Poetic Places, shooting intimate and atmospheric portraits of 21 major Italian poets in their space of artistic activity. Both the book and the exhibition travelled to several Italian cities and won wide acclaim.
Cortés spoke to the Weekend Review in a wide-ranging interview. Excerpts.
What kind of research did you do before capturing the essence of the Bohra community in Sidhpur?
I have always been attracted to cities or towns that have, for some historic, social or economic reason, fallen off the map. Sidhpur emanates the same kind of atmosphere that you find in abandoned mining towns in the American west, or cities in southern Italy that had great commercial importance before history moved on and left them drifting in the indifference of time. But Sidhpur has an added element that fascinates me even more and that is the layering of visual, architectural and symbolic elements that seem to linger in the homes like so many ghosts. My attention is held by the psychological and metaphorical importance of rooms and what they silently describe, and I want to draw the viewer into the pathos of discovery. The vibration of the empty rooms and all the surface information speak to us about people and their need to express themselves, the exteriorisation of the soul life or personal values — the emblematic image of an age, a brief but rich moment of creativity and domesticated poetic fantasy.
Were there moments of disappointment when you were not permitted to shoot the interiors of a house or were the villagers very receptive?
The warmth and hospitality expressed by the community could never have allowed for disappointment. Each house was an individual adventure, which offered details and stories — the kind I’m willing to listen to and identify. My process with photography always implies a challenge of verification. Sidhpur involved a pilgrimage from house to house, which was very much akin to the path followed by an investigator who looks for clues, but I did not want to verify anything. My search is not to uncover but to record. My clues lay hidden in the two dimensional result of my efforts, which become objects of a bigger puzzle, that are more universal, more transcendent and speak to each viewer in a different way, as photographs must.
Do you often request people to “tidy up the place” or prefer maintaining its originality?
The preparation of the house is something I try to avoid. I leave it to the domestic rules that govern each household. The originality is guaranteed by the expression the house offers of the inhabitants; a deserted house speaks to me of change and social mobility, a tidy, well-kept house speaks of attention, investment in the future, possible immobility and economic stability.
Have there been times when dissatisfied with photographs, you had to go back to shoot?
I’m never really dissatisfied, but sometimes simply feel that I may need more time to extract what is lingering in the air and what needs to be identified.
Did people in Sidhpur understand it all or wished to see what you were shooting?
The people reacted in many different ways but as a well-established member of the community presented me, nobody asked to see the images or questioned my presence. The concept of understanding my intention was never brought up. I showed them other books I had done and they were satisfied and happy to participate. Some people seemed a bit surprised that I had any specific interest in houses they considered already condemned by time and history.
How have they managed to maintain the rich architectural heritage over the years?
The heritage in Sidhpur has been saved by low property values and a very symbolic link that the community has with the homes and the area. The discipline of the community has helped to maintain a certain ritualistic importance that is intrinsic in the buildings.
How aware is the Bohra community about the outside world?
The Bohra community is generally well travelled, except for those who have remained in isolation, which are very few.
What change, if any, has come about after your photoshoots in Puducherry and Sidhpur?
My book on Puducherry has, in part, initiated a reflection on how the city can remain true to the special atmosphere that is part of the heritage of this post-colonial city, filled with many layers of influences. The Sidhpur series is still rather new and, with time, it may also help to spawn a discussion, which may lead to some political or social acts of heritage preservation. Working as a fine-art photographer and not a photojournalist, my images are directed at an international audience that need not have any link or knowledge of either location. They can connect also on a purely aesthetic, artistic and emotional level.
Is your liking for “originality” the reason to turn to travel photography from fashion and lifestyle photography?
No, I have explored the different genres of photography for the sheer pleasure of understanding the tonal range of my profession, which also includes a process of maturity and introspection. I enjoy looking at the world through my lens; it’s a way to give a sense of order, which accepts chaos as a creative source.
How is photography in India different from the West?
Photography has a deep history in India and some of the earliest landscape images are of the Indian territory. The language of photography has developed in a different way in the West then in India, for the simple fact that they have shared nonparallel cultural developments. At present, the world is very connected in terms of sourcing images but the cultural perception remains different. I enjoy working on both fronts and seeing the many overlapping elements.
What made you come to India the first time in 2004?
My wife is a yoga teacher and she opened the path to my discovery of India. She has always had a relationship with India and after many years in Europe, we decided to try a short-term stay in India 11 years ago. Both for her interests and mine, India has offered a generous canvas and our two daughters have also been incredibly enriched. We all feel very much at home in the township of Auroville, associated with the Sri Aurobindo Society, near Puducherry.
How much time did it take you to adjust here?
It was a slow adjustment, a process of assimilation, which was helped by my extreme curiosity. I feel India to be a second ‘soul’ country after Italy.
Nilima Pathak is a journalist based in New Delhi.