This present show is derived and rooted in the conclusion of an investigation I conducted years ago. The art of photography is commonly associated with the eye of the subjective genius that is able to see and record in a unique way that which the rest of us is simultaneously witness and yet completely blind towards. Several years ago I began an exploration that headed in a direction diametrically opposite: I desired to see if it was possible to construct an objective photograph that was completely untainted by my own individual preferences and prejudices. Two years and several thousand images later I realized that irrespective of any attempt to rid the image of its subjectivity, my images stubbornly contained within them the presence of my own shadow as an observer, either physically or metaphorically in intent. Eventually I concluded that the only rational and logical way to remove this witness from within the photograph was to make a print from an unexposed negative- a blank image.

When I removed myself from my image of the world, I removed the world with it. What remained was pure and infinite potential contained within the unexposed photographic film that necessitated its own destruction (developing before shooting) in order to be represented. These glossy prints of ‘nothing,’ to my surprise, were mirror like, reflecting all that it was placed in front of. It was a fluid image of the persistent present, here and now, reflecting each passing viewer inside making them the ultimate protagonists of the image.

The remaining works in this show are constructed around each viewer making them the central characters of the work. All the works allude to the body of the viewer as a vessel and container to the observer that each of us is. The reference to the body is physical. I use boundaries, soft and permeable yet restrictive, or twin doors essentially identical, wired from the same source leading to the same space, yet one is obliged to pass through only one or the other. In another, the viewer is faced by the absence of his or her own reflection in the mirror, and in ‘How many shadows have you?’ the work (the shadows) arises on the blank walls only with the presence and actions of the viewer.

I adopt the strategy of ‘play,’ presenting a childlike playground of sorts, in an attempt to proceed at two levels simultaneously. One is apparent, playful, and formal, indicating and re-presenting the obvious in order to become aware of and delight in what we take for granted. On another level the work functions as an abstract contemplation on the nature of the egocentric self and the observer. I ask the viewer what I ask myself, who is this witness? Is this witness the name that each of us associates with ourselves? Does this name really exist, and if so how many shadows have we?

Avinash Veeraraghavan