Priya Kambli
This comes up time and time again for me in the process of investigating the photography of someone who is so in tune with their work and process that they make it all look so easy. There becomes this understanding of issues that are at times familiar, but often with a different slant to what I’ve experienced, and then there are those that are completely alien to me. It’s those concepts that help take me further into life and the societies and cultures of others that make me realize that I’m getting something out of this of extreme value. Exploring photographic bodies of work seems to inherently hold that value with not just individual pictures, but the narrative that is spoken through this wonderful visual language. I walk away feeling better off for having considered the work.
Priya Kambli is a master at speaking this language. It’s not just the story she is telling, but the images always have a creative interest that helps to get the point across in an even better way. They are visually interesting, both in composition and content, and in the case of complicated familial relationships, help me realize even more how those from different cultures are not so far away from ourselves. Priya’s own story is a fascinating one, and it was with great pleasure that she sat down to answer some of my questions about her work and creative process. My feeling and hopes are that I won’t be the only one thinking they are better off for learning about it all.
Eye (Muma and Maushi), Archival Inkjet Print, 2019
Bio -
Priya Kambli received her BFA at the University of Louisiana in Lafayette and an MFA from the University of Houston. She is currently Professor of Art at Truman State University in Kirksville, Missouri. One of her most significant accomplishments was receiving the Book Award through PhotoLucida’s Critical Mass for her series Color Falls Down, published in 2010. This series marked her maturing as an artist and was conceived shortly after her first child, her son Kavi, was born. It inadvertently examines the question asked by Kavi at age three; did she belong to two different worlds, since she spoke two different languages? The essence of his question continues to be a driving force in her art making.
Kambli’s artwork has been well received, having been exhibited, published, collected and reviewed in the national and international photographic community. The success of Kambli’s work underlines the fact that she is engaged in an important dialogue, and reinforces her intent to make work driven by a growing awareness of the importance of many voices from diverse perspectives and the political relevance of our private struggles.
Interview -
Michael Kirchoff: Every photographer experiences that spark that drives them into the direction of image-making. How did you get your start, and what were your early influences?
Priya Kambli: Photography has always been part of my upbringing; my father was an avid amateur photographer who documented us consistently. My most vivid childhood memories are of standing beside my sister in front of my father’s Minolta camera - waiting, while he carefully framed and exposed us onto film. My father took the task of making images rather seriously. And we (my father’s family) often found ourselves to be his unwilling subjects. Our reluctance was related to his perfectionism. We, his subjects, were constantly herded from one spot to another, posed in one pool of light and then another. As a child I was certain that being photographed by my father was my punishment.
Interestingly, I find myself donning the role of the photographer, demanding that same commitment that I balked at, hence most of my subject matter tends to be objects, artifacts or self-portraits that I can put through a ringer without feeling that I am donning my fathers’ shoes.
I started taking photography classes in undergraduate school as part of my Graphic Design curriculum and was hooked - I took every photo class I could take and later went back to graduate school for Photography.
My early influences were Sally Mann, Clarence John Laughlin, Ralph Eugene Meatyard – my work never resembled theirs, but I was fascinated by the visual depth in their work. My current influences are Doris Salcedo, Ruth Asawa, Mona Hatoum, Rachel Whiteread – artists whose practices are multi-media based and whose trajectory of work have been to poetically address issues based in social, cultural, political context.
MK: You had made your way to the United States from India at a young age. A very defined culture shock had to have had an effect on you. Examining culture is pervasive in your work, but I wonder if there are still times when a form of that shock is felt again, even after so many years?
PK: I am constantly reminded that I don’t belong sometimes in minute ways – I always miss the cultural references. But sometimes in big ways. In 2011, I gave up my Indian nationality to become an American citizen. Doing so meant having my Indian passport invalidated at the Indian consulate with a stamp stating “Passport cancelled as the holder has acquired Foreign Nationality”. Having lived in the United States for over 17 years it seemed odd to claim my American nationality as “foreign”.
MK: I was wonderfully impressed with your body of work, Buttons for Eyes while jurying Critical Mass last year. Like you mention in your artist statement, there is a playfulness in the title and imagery, yet the serious undertones of anti-immigrant rhetoric can still be felt. How did you choose to combine these elements so effectively?
PK: My approach to imaginatively exploring content is to combine labor intensive practice with playful experimentation, which is an integral and intuitive part of my creative process. Natural light, always a key ingredient in my work, becomes another material to manipulate - I use its mercurial nature as a sign of both the unpredictable and the transformational. I re-contextualize the familial qualities of the materials (flour, rice, pigments, spices, etc.) for my own artistic and creative purposes, but also as a way of embellishing my past and connecting it to the present it also plays games with them. With these materials I alter the stories the archival photographs tell.
I visualize the work as tapping into subversive reserves of play creating work that winks, pokes, and inverts the past and the present - suggesting joyousness, mixed with the loss and regret that accompanies us all. The playfulness in this work is my way of counteracting to the anti-immigrant rhetoric.
MK: When you first started promoting Color Falls Down, addressing cultural differences between your former and new home, as well as connecting your past and present, it had to have been a bit of a cathartic experience. These themes have continued in other bodies of work throughout your career. Do you feel that there has been an improvement in coming to terms with these themes now that some substantial time has passed?
PK: Unfortunately, I find these themes even more necessary in our current political environment where anti-immigrant rhetoric is on the rise. I find that it is a pivotal moment in my practice just as it is for the fabric of our society. In the face of an alarming erosion of the values of inclusiveness and appreciation for diversity, I find that my personal work has become more politically necessary. I see my work as a way of sharing my story, and contributing to the broader cultural debate on migrant narratives at a moment in which anti-immigrant rhetoric, both in my community and nationally, is on the rise. As significant political forces try to suppress the concerns of those who are perceived as different, the need to present a variety of perspectives is simply more urgent. Sharing our stories has a civic and social impact; it helps us to better appreciate our differences but also recognize those threads that run throughout our sense of a common humanity.
India (Aajooba), Archival Inkjet Print, 2018
Studio Portrait (Aajooba, Neela Atya, Sona, Mona and Me), Archival Inkjet Print, 201
Furniture and Altar Pieces, Archival Inkjet Print, 2019
Soha (Flour Pattern on Back), Archival Inkjet Print, 2019
Mouths (Breaux’s Studio), Archival Inkjet Print, 2017
Guest Check, Archival Inkjet Print, 2019
MK: In examining this point a little further, do you feel as though your voice is being heard with your photographs? Has the conversation about immigration even come close to being felt by those (say some in government, for example) who could make a difference? Also, are there steps outside of your photographic work that you have taken to bolster this conversation?
PK: I have been thinking a lot about this question myself. Does sharing our stories actually create empathy - frankly, I am not sure - but I am aware that this is the only way I know of contributing. In my work I keep challenging myself with a more political agenda, driven by an awareness of the importance of diverse voices and the political relevance of our private struggles. I have thought about expanding my creative practice to bolster this conversation and that is where showing work at non-profit organizations comes in play - as these spaces are interested in fostering and educating dialogue about cultural differences and universal similarities.
MK: Has your work and process also helped connect you to members of your family, either here or in India?
PK: I think so, although I don’t think that thought has ever been articulated.
MK: There is a definite through-line that connects earlier work like Color Falls Down with later work like Kitchen Gods. Do you intend or view these different bodies of work, as well as those created in between, as though they might be chapters in a book that tell an overall story of who you are? Do you think there will ever be a final chapter made?
PK: There are definite threads that weave through all these bodies of work – the use of archival family photographs and the obscuring of them via the use of material like flour, flowers, rice, etc. that are humble and grounded in everyday use to create patterns - the infinitely variable warp and weave of Indian culture - as a means of obscuring and revealing in a manner suggestive of memory and loss. I do view these different bodies of work as looking at something from different vantage points and perspectives so yes, they can definitely be read as chapters in the book.
MK: Your work contains themes of immigration, family, and cultural identity, and are often examined for those reasons specifically. Are there desires and goals to exhibit these works for a purely artistic sense, with your hand being very apparent in many of the stylistic choices you’ve made? Is a different appreciation needed without diminishing these themes?
PK: My creative work has been informed by my own emigration and thus has always grappled with the challenges of cross-cultural understanding; creatively interpreting and publicly resolving such ideas is an innate part of my professional work. So, it’s hard for me to uncouple the content and form – but I also think the work has multiple facets and therefore could be appreciated in multiple ways without diminishing the themes. I have always wanted to be understood and appreciated on the basis of the work – but the work has its social and even political dimension – and that is something I’ve come to find very motivating, as the general atmosphere has made once more private ponderings or personal narratives into something politically contested.
Kambli Family (Studio Portrait) & Which one is different, Archival Inkjet Print, 2019
Kavi (Topi), Archival Inkjet Print, 2017
Muma and Sona, Archival Inkjet Print, 2018
Planes (Puzzle), Archival Inkjet Print, 2016
I am working Hard, Archival Inkjet Print, 2017
Sona and Me (Premier Padmini), Archival Inkjet Print, 2017
MK: In addition to being a photographic artist, you are a Professor of Art at Truman State University. Does your profession as an educator also inform your photographs in any way? What about the other way around - do your photographs ever become tools used in your curriculum?
PK: Absolutely, teaching keeps me engaged and informed about the photographic medium and practice. There’s some synergy between the roles that you try to harness – and being excited about some new artist, for instance, can feed both. Of course, there is a tension as the two endeavors are each exhausting in their own right. I usually don’t use my work as tools in the curriculum, just because my thoughts are so ingrained in every conversation we have in the classroom it seems logical to give space to someone elsewhere ever I can.
MK: Do you ever think that your own family will be able to use the work that you have created to further the conversations started by you in their own lives? Has there ever been any expressed desire for them to contribute or collaborate in some way?
PK: Maybe. I always intended my work as my photographic inheritance to my children. As you know I have used my own photographic inheritance to create these bodies of work – so who knows. Both my children have contributed to the work in multiple ways, by physically being part of it, my son’s question at age three; do you belong to two different worlds, since you speak two different languages? The essence of his question continues to be a driving force in my art making. And my daughter, who is my harshest critic and my most ardent supporter. And my spouse, also an artist, helps me think and write about the work.
MK: What steps do you pursue in order to find an audience for your photographs?
PK: I hustle all the time. Living in a rural community means I am isolated from an artistic community and so I have to work really hard on creating one for myself. I am constantly applying to opportunities, attending conferences and portfolio reviews - you name it. It is hard work.
MK: Was there a specific point in time where you felt that you had found your voice in photography and became satisfied with the direction of your work? Do you ever truly find yourself in a good place with your images, or are you always searching for more?
PK: The success of my earlier series Color Falls Down clearly underlined the fact that I was engaged in an important dialogue. But the urgent need to create, to articulate, to clarify thought visually continues. I am never completely satisfied or content with the work – but I think that is the burden of the artistic process and practice.
Sieve, Archival Inkjet Print, 2017
Kambli Bros, Archival Inkjet Print, 2017
Aaji and Me, Archival Inkjet Print, 2018
Soha Bellybutton (Turmeric), Archival Inkjet Print, 2017
Sona and Me (Breauxs Studio), Archival Inkjet Print, 2017
Eye, Archival Inkjet Print, 2019
MK: Is there anything about your creative process that you feel people miss or are misinformed about?
PK: One of the challenges about making work that deals with cultural identity viewed through the personal lens is finding appropriate venues for the work. I am constantly given a run around in terms of where to show the work. I get the sense that gallerists and museum professionals see the work and think “This is good, but it requires some educational outreach for the audience.” In fact, my work is frequently curated into non-profit educational gallery spaces precisely because of its potential to start a dialogue about cultural differences and universal similarities. These experiences are always great but I don’t know if that gives the work its full due as artwork.
MK: What do you feel is the best way for you to grow as an artist? Are there any fears behind treading new waters?
PK: I am constantly playing, exploring and learning- I have no fears (mostly) about treading new waters – but I won’t take a plunge into something instantly either- I am not reckless, I usually need time to think things through. Once I have, then I can be fearless.
MK: I’ve noticed that you’ve been doing some work with the cyanotype process. Just for fun? A new body of work forming?
PK: Yes, I am working on a new body of work titled Altar Series, this project has been on my mind for a while but I hadn’t had time to conceptualize it- with the coronavirus and the shelter at home in place – I suddenly had a little bit of time to play and was lucky enough to be prepped for it in terms of having the materials I needed at home. This body of work is in its raw stage. It’s intention again is to use archival materials - this time objects from my altar which were originally my mother’s, and create work with them. I am excited to see how open ended the read of this project is. I am also learning to make molds to cast the altar objects in plaster. And I also intend to incorporate Anthotypes into this work. All of these things will come together as elements of a broader, mixed media installation.
MK: What else? How do you see your work progressing into the future? Any other things you are currently working on that we should be on the lookout for?
PK: As you mentioned I am working on the Altar Series along with two other projects mentioned below. These bodies of work will consist of photographs, objects, and text - representing an expansion of my predominantly digital, two-dimensional practice to encompass a more tactile and multi-sensory, three-dimensional approach.
Project 1. Don’t Touch My Hair: One of my mother’s more idiosyncratic rules was for us to never, ever, touch her hair. This command from her definitely inspired a certain amount of mischief in us, but also held us honor bound, fascinated by the randomness of the request and by the vulnerability of the adult that requested it. As a child, I wasn’t necessarily a good rule follower and generally had no qualms about overstepping or sidestepping certain directives as I navigated the world around me.
But for some reason this demand from my mother - which frankly amused and totally flummoxed
my sister and I - stuck. What makes that memory important for this work, is that it shapes my memories of her and of my life growing up in India. Memories like this, of small, seemingly trivial events - but speaking of intimacy, touch, and vulnerability - are at the emotional core of all of us. And I believe that prompting reflection about those memories is a powerful means of forging connections between people and communities.
Project 2: Holder has acquired Foreign Nationality: In 2011, I gave up my Indian nationality to become an American citizen. Doing so meant having my Indian passport invalidated at the Indian consulate with a stamp stating “Passport cancelled as the holder has acquired Foreign Nationality”. This bureaucratic, emotionless language invalidating my Indian nationality will be the departure point for a new body of work, striving to understand the formation and erasure of identity that is an inevitable part of the migrant experience.
You can find more of Priya’s work on her website here.
All photographs, ©Priya Kambli.
