Photographer Diwan Manna talks about his art to Uma Nair
Think of sense and sensibility, think of a photographer who goes beyond the obvious: 37-year-old Diwan Manna is the recipient of the National Award for Photography 1996, organized by the Central Lalit Kala Akademi.
“It’s an award not for me, but for the city and the contribution of my friends like Kumar Vikal, Dr Oberoi, Naresh Pandit, S P Gautam, teachers like Viren Tanwar, Jagmohan Chopra and Raj Jain who are equally important. Raghu Rai’s constant suggestions and advice have played an important role in shaping my sensibilities. My friends and teachers have contributed greatly to to my mental development, which is reflected in my work.”
Diwan feels that the character of the modern city of Chandigarh has helped him greatly. “A city like Chandigarh which does not have any distinct character gives an individual who is not bound by any restriction a great sense of freedom to grow and develop. At the same time, a certain cultural rootedness is also very important. Culture is not stagnant, it is always growing.”
Diwan hails from village Bareta (Punjab). Rivers, trees, fields were a part of Diwan’s childhood. So were the writings of Chekhov. Hemingway and Dileep Kaur Tiwana. As a small boy when he baked and created an array of toys, his skill was identified by his family members as an aptitude for engineering. It was only after he failed to clear his Class XI despite two attempts that he enrolled himself as a student of graphic art at the College of Art, Chandigarh.
“A photograph, ideally, should be a piece of art and must convery more than the obvious. It should provoke the viewer and invoke him to probe and introspect.” Here he cites the work of his role model, the renowned photographer Raghu Rai. “Many accuse Raghu of distorting truth. Take for instance, Rai’s famous photograph of a sweeper sweeping away Indira Gandhi’s election posters and dumping them into a dustbin, after the news of her defeat. In all likelihood Raghu must have arranged some parts of it. But the message was blatantly clear – a woman of Indira Gandhi’s stature was humbled by ordinary mortals.”
On photography in general Diwan says, “Many photographers are confused regarding the subject and object. I feel that a photographer’s vision should be considered as a subject rather than what is actually being clicked.” Diwan’s photographs are preconceived. For days ideas brew in his mind, and he arranges a photo session only after the ideas take a concrete shape. Of course, this is only the case with his colour photographs. For many years Diwan worked as a chief photographer for NZCC and photographted significant functions such as Apna Utsav. Currently he is freelancing. Industrial photography is his forte. With his creativity he transforms the walls of polluted, dusty factories into pleasant interiors.
In his work, Diwan reacts to those who are close to him. He has done a series of photographs on dhabawalas (which might appear in a book) and rickshaw-walas (his usual mode of transportation). The tonal quality, texture, contrasts of black and white and its different hues is Diwan’s leitmotif. “Colours,” he claims, “are not definite and can acquire new meaning when juxtaposed with different colours.”
The exhibition at AIFACS is a telling testimony to the infinite world of back and white. The sculpture-like intensity is not just varied but passionate to the point of weaving in a strong narrative. Certainly the fantasy lies in the ability to dwarf humans and magnify the sculpture to a point of reflection. Obviously Diwan chooses the picture to express innermost feelings. “An artist is one who goes beyond reality.” Says he.
And reality it is which traverses the warp of time – time that can whirl in a frenzy-driven action-packed world of speed or a static stillness that encompasses the very consequence of living or existing. Indeed as the faceless humans lose energy it is their very shadowy presence amidst the darkened depths of detail that give a new meaning to the intrinsic purpose of activity. The thrust in this exhibition is towards establishing a position of emotional consolidation. The critique then is of hours of experiencing the slow draining of purpose and meaning. The hand behind the shutter recaptures the sheer joy of the essential act of being. Perspectives are layered for prismatic vision and each picture becomes a solitary statement that endures.
You wonder if he is catering to a select crowd when you look closely at his shots of the British Museum and the Tate Gallery. Contrasting the past and the present, depicting man’s obsession with the past at the price of the present, where the past becomes larger than life as if threatening to dominate the present you wonder at the emotive feel of the moment in time. “I don’t know whether I should call myself an artist or a photographer… maybe both,” says Diwan who has had his feel of the media in Britain too – an exhibition of 80 pictures of his work travels all over the countryside in the following months.
“Recognition.” Professes Diwan, “is vital and a feedback, essential for an artist to grow, Money however is incidental and not the prime mover.”
