Nalini Malani
Can You Hear Me?, 2020, Animation Chamber, 9 channel installation with 88 single channel stop motion animations, sound; ©️ Nalini Malani; Photo: Ranabir Das
When Can I Fight?
Commentary by Imogen Tedbury
[H]is head was brought on a platter and given to the girl, and she brought it to her mother. (Matthew, 14:11)
Can You Hear Me? takes as its departure the abduction, rape, and brutal murder of Asifa Bano, an eight-year-old Muslim girl, whose body was defiled as a symbol of patriotism by a group of Hindu men in the region of Jammu and Kashmir in 2018.
In what Nalini Malani calls the Animation Chamber at the Whitechapel Gallery, eighty-eight hand-drawn iPad clips are projected onto exposed brick walls. These drawings were made over the course of three years, and they embody thoughts and fantasies in animated journal entries.
Literature, history, current affairs, and memory are enacted through this ‘moving graffiti’ (Butler 2020: 61). Quotations from Adrienne Rich, Samuel Beckett, Berthold Brecht, James Baldwin, and others flicker amongst illustrations of ancient mythology, personal experience, and the everyday news cycle. The prophetess Cassandra, Radha the Hindu goddess of love, and Lewis Carroll’s Alice jostle for space with violent men, engorged and angry. Alice is an avatar for Asifa, the murdered little girl, who skips, screams, shrinks, shape-shifts, seeks answers. ‘Can you hear me?’ she asks. Like St John the Baptist, Asifa is a ‘vox clamantis’, a voice of testimony and judgment after her death.
There is a force to these images and texts, in their repetition, their colour. ‘Battling with myself’—‘I am confined to my head’—‘when can I fight’—‘and so his eyes were out, no guilt, no blame’—‘REVENGE’. The fragments voice the guilt-ridden anticipation of violent vengeance: perhaps like that of Herodias, anxiously waiting for her daughter to bring in St John the Baptist’s head on a platter (Matthew 14:11). Malani’s work confronts ‘the absurd decisions made by the powers around us [that] lead to the most dangerous and horrific ends’ (Malani 2020: 74).
Yet text and image here are ultimately an alternative to vengeance. Their creation, presence, and transformation act as a ‘deterrent’ to action. Underlining this inaction is the manner in which each projection ends, with the screaming face of Medea, desperate protagonist of Greek tragedy, a woman pushed to her limits.
References
Instagram.com/nalinimalani
Butler, Emily. 2020. ‘How Can We Listen Better?’, in Nalini Malani: Can You Hear Me? ed. by Emily Butler, Inês Costa, and Johan Pijnappel (London: Whitechapel Gallery), pp. 61–68
Malani, Nalini. 2020. Domus India, 9.3: 64–75