Face Off

As you stroll into the Seagull studio gallery,Anirudh catches your eye squarely. Clad in a pristine white dhoti and angrakha,arms stretched out,he seems frozen in a moment from a Bharatnatyam performance. As you walk towards him,the image first blurs and finally melts into Anirudh sitting smug,in trousers and shirt,uncannily similar to the faces you try and give the customer care executives on the other side of your phone. It’s a little difficult to tell between the real person and the role player,and that is probably what photographer Annu Palakunnathu Matthew wanted to portray through The Virtual Immigrant. “Remaining physically in India,these BPO workers become Americans for a workday. They exist virtually between cultures without leaving their country of origin,” says Mattew about her concept.

Her exhibition comprises a profile of about ten people in 3D Lenticular Prints. For the uninitiated,the images provide an illusion of depth more like two pictures fused together,which can be seen by changing your angle of viewing. Matthew has essentially captured two no-frills profiles of the same person – the first one as what we can assume they are in real life,the second in their professional avatars. Rashmi,in Matthew’s frames transforms from a geeky girl-next-door to an unwilling participant in the ‘virtual immigration process’ in a plain shirt-pant. As you walk by the frame,the superimposition of the two pictures provides a subtle insight into the dichotomy of lives like this. The captions refuse to elaborate on the individual stories,almost nudging the viewer to debate on the possibilities. Contemplate on the double lives that middle-aged Dattatri,ageing Adil and 30ish Kirti leads. Often,the body language of the individuals,in their different personas,hint at what could be their story,their take on the BPO boom,their relation to the US/Australia shifts-multiplex reality. Kirti,smiling and at ease in her orange-printed salwar kameez hunches and wears an impassive expression when she is pictured in a pair of jeans,orange tee and jacket. Her rigidly held shoulders and hands thrust inside the pocket sort of gives away her discomfiture. You are tempted to assume that her tongue hurts from the American drawl. Dattatri,on the other hand,hardly gives away any bit of emotion as he changes to his silk lungi from his biker jacket-denims call-centre uniform. Work doesn’t invade his personal emotional space,you tell yourself. And probably Matthew makes her point.