‘There are always several spaces in a space, several ways of occupying it.’

                                                – Jacques Ranciere

The Oxford Dictionary defines ‘Boundary’ as ‘a line which marks the limits of an area; a dividing line’ or ‘a limit of something abstract, especially a subject or sphere of activity’. It may refer to atomic orbitals, limits of a piece of land or define hierarchical structures in the society or an area of study. Yet, we cannot look at it as a fixed entity. It does not just set limits of an object or a region, rather, it creates a space that holds multiple elements into its fold through differentiation and/or assimilation. By looking at historical narratives, cultural practices and contemporary art forms, one realises the complex nature of ‘boundary’ that is being re-defined and re-negotiated. Where do we witness this complex, in-between space? How do these complex formations take shape? What does a ‘boundary’ actually contain within itself? 

This discussion reminds me of the last scene from a blockbuster Hindi film: Lagaan. The last few minutes of the cricket match in the film. The only thing that one sees on the screen is the cricket ground and cheering crowd. Bhuvan, the protagonist from Champaner village located somewhere in central India, hits the ball hard. The ball is in the air for a while and is caught by Captain Russell, a British official from the region. The crowd goes silent for a moment and then begins celebrating after realising that Captain Russell has crossed the boundary line with the ball in his hands. As most of us already know, the local squad wins the test match to get rid of the agricultural tax in the midst of long lasting drought in the region. The primary reason to revisit this particular scene is because it curiously addresses the notion of ‘boundary’ as an actual presence of a boundary line on the cricket ground. It also shows its imaginary as well as metaphorical presence within the larger discussion of colonial history.The set of rules are laid down by the Britishers. Bhuvan hitting the boundary metaphorically represents the changing nature of nationalism, prudent yet assertive. Located within the circular boundary guarded by the rules of law, the local team challenges the dominant order by following their rules. 

In the film, the game is played out within the framework of the rules set by the colonial power. It represents the political movement that was determined to stick to the framework of law in terms of legislation, electorates, and so on. Although, the oppositional strategy subverts the dominant structure of colonial rule creating an ambivalent space, a space where two oppositional forces are present simultaneously. What do these ambivalent spaces offer us? How do we really play within the framework, how do we subvert them, how do we push the boundaries? Do our ideas about the self and the other or space and ownership determine or question the complex structures around us? In the current edition of Hakara, हद्द/Boundary, a play by Abhimanyu Acharya addresses the convoluted nature of boundaries: dividing, merging, or forging. As Acharya’s two main characters converse:

B: You are the one who drew boundaries. 
A: Yes. But there was no need until you arrived. 
B: There is no need even now. 
A: I don’t know what space is mine anymore. 
B: No one knows that anyway.

The play delves into the realm of the absurd while addressing the human tendency to mark their comfort zones defined by social, cultural and historical contexts. Situated in the claustrophobic black box space, the two main characters ‘A’ and ‘B’ get into a longish conversation about the binary, the ‘otherness’ of the other while portraying their ambiguous nature. This ambiguous nature is made evident through the spatial arrangements of different kinds. Sometimes, the spatial arrangements are in concentric circles, one outside another creating spaces within, or sometimes, as separate zones. Hence, the boundaries create spaces within. 

In the Marathi translation of the conversation between Guillermo Gómez-Peña and Gabriela Salgado in the current edition, Gómez-Peña asserts, ‘Immigrants from “Third World” countries live inside much-touted “First World”, and by living and working within this First World, we redefine its culture.’ This ambivalent space also manifests in Gomez Pena’s idea of ‘border zones’ where he talks about the Latin American art forms developed through a collision between indigenous art forms and colonial culture. Through initiatives like La Pocha Nostra, they create a space for artists that would include artists and art practices from the periphery. They take their performances to regions that are not part of the mainstream contemporary art, for example, Latino population in the USA or invite artists from Latin American countries who are not part of the privileged gallery or museum circuits to become part of their artistic endeavours. Crossing borders, literally as well as metaphorically, has been the crux of Gomez Pena’s practice, which he articulates eloquently here:

Beyond the obvious cultural differences among us, there is this rebellious attitude and bifocal understanding of culture that help create a common ground for our collaborations. We are all post-colonial artists in search of a new conceptual nation capable of containing our aspirations and complex identities, our rage and locura. We are an unusual group of border-crossers, exiles, nomads and hybrids of sorts…our job is to cross the borders we are told we shouldn’t cross; to infect the ethos and aesthetics of the North; to smuggle ideas from one community to another; from one country to another; and from the streets into the museum and back.¹

Predominantly, contemporary art is formed by these hybrid forms thatGómez-Peña refers toas an exchange of cultures, materials, forms and practices. By crossing borders or opening up spaces for dialogue and exchange, contemporary art is in the process of penetrating and redefining its own boundaries. In response, artists employ unconventional materials, work collaboratively with marginalised groups, outside of gallery or museum spaces, in rural or semi-urban locations that are not seen on the global art map, making the boundaries between the art field and outside world porous. A young artist like Umesh Singh interacts with farmers in Bihar as he collects abandoned muzzles and farming tools and makes cynotype photographs of the farming community from his place, showcasing their exploitation and scarcity of resources. Another artist, Ashwan Jamwal hails from the region of Jammu and Kashmir, where he has been interviewing and collecting stories of the residents affected by ongoing conflict and violence to be represented in his paintings with the use of barbed wires, red threads and collages.

Creating hybrid forms, these artists merge different art forms through site-specific works, installations, or even paintings by applying new methods from anthropology, cultural studies and social sciences. Their interactive methods bridge the gap between the artist and the audience. This is quite evident in collaborative art practice of Navjot Altaf. She has problematised the binaries of art and craft, or artist and craftsman through her collaborative art projects in Bastar. Exploring new modes of art making, Navjot has incorporated symbols and imageries from local traditions addressing the invisibility of these practices as for her, ‘The process of working in a common space gradually encouraged communication leading to extensive travel within Bastar, where one not only sensed the dynamics of local art and culture, but also felt the socio-economic and power asymmetries at almost all levels.’

While talking about this dialogical practice, Nancy Adajania points out the role of Bastar artists in Navjot’s art practice emphasising the intellactual exchange that has shaped their artistic positions. ‘Shantibai, Rajkumar, and Gessuram, too, have critically emplaced themselves in this process, by emancipating themselves from the social and economic prejudices attending their artistic practices to produce a “third space” as it were, one that cannot be subsumed under the classic State patronage or NGO paradigm.’ In this edition, the attempt is to address this multilayered ‘third space’ in the form of a boundary or border which is absent and present simultaneously: a line that divides and brings together, a line that creates new identities and merges the existing one. The differences are collapsed into an ambivalent space that takes these boundaries into its fold to reveal the tension between integration and resistance, the inside and the outside, the visible and the invisible, the dominant and the dominated, the maker and the viewer.