The Roast Potato Party
‘The Roast Potato Party’ did not want to summon people. This was never an invitation, either. Primarily conceived as a research work presentation, this installation and a potato roasting event as an activation of the work were set to happen on the potato fields near Beraberi Purba Para village in Singur. There was no formal announcement in the form of flyers, posters, banners, or miking to the neighbourhoods to join in. Yet, in a landscape where land is a living document of the land movement history of Singur, the act of ‘event making’ became its own loud, irrefragable call.
The Material Call:
In the horizontal expanse of the farmland, every vertical intervention can become a signal, an effectual visual hook. As the bamboo structure for the harvest residue-filled, fence-like form was gradually taking its shape in the morning light, passing farmers paused, seeing this; stared, and asked questions. While imagining a new meaning of making it, some even asked if this was going to be a cultural function or something. They suggested—“Alupora (Bengali for ‘roast potatoes’)? You are making this for Alupora? You people are mad. If it is necessary to do, do this grandly; bring a sound box and a spotlight too.” Other concerns were raised, like “When is it going to happen?” and “What will happen to this structure when it is done?”
This physical interrogation was the first layer of the invitation. Singur since the last two decades had been encountering fences, which signalled exclusion and industrial shift; this bamboo skeleton called forth a defensive curiosity. Through these interrogations, the structure was already inviting respondents to translate it into their own terms, refusing to be a standalone installation.
This structure reversed the logic of an enclosure in a landscape long disfigured by fenced enclosures. The land here reshapes its boundary, demolishing the interpretation of the linear narrative.
The Olfactory Signal:
By afternoon, the call was shifting from the visual to the sensory. The fire was lit. The white, dragonish smoke was announcing that something was happening here, come join us. The smell of roasting potatoes was drawing in more and more curious people. They were not ‘audience’ anymore in institutional frameworks, rather respondents to a sensory flare. They activated a conversation that the space was already having with itself, smouldering since 2006, the beginning of the Singur Land Movement.
Dents in the ‘Great narrative’:
That temporary one-day assembly, surrounded by the fence installation, having 13 fragments of parallel land struggle history across India, has been answered by a multitude of truths. For participant Niranjan Manna, the fire recalled memories of protest days in Singur; for some young participants, it resembled their childhood memory of Alupora as they were born between 2006-2016 and never witnessed the protests.
This event approach engages with Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak’s assertion that every ‘Great Narrative’ is inherently biased and exclusionary, as the act of constructing a unified story necessitates that something is “left out”. The individual reactions were distinct from each other. They were fragments of chitchat, remembering, listening, and describing, while some were busy making vlogs as well. Together, these fragments are reconstructing a larger, holistic image of multilayered truth.
The news media framed the Singur Land Movement as an industry versus farmer battle. Reporters often only interviewed protesters having similar political views. Even if a report reflected contradictions, there were concluding statements that flattened the spectrum of many thoughts. These silenced voices were asking: “What is the truth?” Undeniably there are uneven versions of the truth from the perspectives of protesters, supporters of industry, or ambivalent landless farmers. The left-out stories were anticipating a community gathering call to own it together and to share what media has not projected yet. The preset linear narrative, as understood through Spivak’s critique of the ‘Great narrative’, collapsed here with this event. In front of this impromptu public engagement, a newer form of collective truth emerged louder than ever.
The Roast Potato Party proved that a gathering call does not need a megaphone.
Reclaim:
The installation has been dismantled once by the rain at night, and also by the participants the next day. The work continues through the fragments of the activities. The community reclaimed the space through the installation and the roasting event. This was not based on any request, dictation, or design but rather a spontaneous political stance, which creates a biased, fragmented, yet reconstructive ground of togetherness.
This text emerges from conversations and shared reflections with:
Sourav Manna, Bappa Manna, Soukat Manna, Tista Sarkar, Moumita Barik, Minati Manna, Subhankar Manna, Dipankar Manna, Bapan Manna, Niranjan Manna, Kakali Manna, Saikat Dutta, Srijita Dutta, Tumpa Dutta, Soukriti Manna, Sumitra Manna, Samrat Manna, Ahana Manna, Amita Manna, Manasi Das, Dustu Manna, Kakali Manna, Riksmita Manna, Debarpan Manna, Debajit Manna, Rik Manna.
Reference
Philosophy Overdose. (1984). Debate on postmodernism.