Photographers are rarely photographed. In looking at the world through their viewfinders, always anticipating those “decisive moments” when something becomes worthy of being photographed, they often overlook themselves. But there are times when, in their lookout through their lenses, they notice themselves, sometimes in a reflection in a shop window, or as a shadow on a wall. And when a master of the art form such as Raghu Rai decides to click himself in those moments, the result is always a wonderful image.
‘Raghu Rai: Photographed’, an ongoing exhibition of photographs of Rai, at the PHOTOINK gallery in Vasant Kunj, made by friends, family and colleagues, as well as self-portraits, made over the past 60 years, offers a glimpse into the life of the photographer, the person “behind the scenes”. Going by the impact and the volume of his work, the Padma Shri-awardee is, arguably, one of the greatest living photographers today. Rai, says Devika Daulet-Singh in her curatorial note, “has produced some of the most recognisable and inimitable photographs of people and places in India” and the exhibition offers “two paths” to understand him. One is through how he was seen by those around him and the other is through how he saw himself.
In photographs taken by others, including those by the likes of journalist Saeed Naqvi and photographer Swapan Parekh, Rai is, variously, a stylish young photojournalist in a turtleneck sweater, heralded on a donkey at his birthplace of Jhang in Pakistan, or a family man who is singing at his son Nitin’s wedding, or is strolling in the garden at his Delhi home with his wife Gurmeet. In one, he is smoking a cigarette with friend and photojournalist, the late Kishore Parekh, in another, he is sharing stage with eminent photographers Sebastiao Salgado and Bruno Barbey. They present his social life, one that was populated by personages such as Indira Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Dalai Lama, to name a few.
A way of looking
On the other hand, the self-portraits of Rai are largely abstract images. His reflections in mirrors and windows, shadows against the bodies of animals or vast landscapes all point towards a photographer’s way of locating himself in a world he so passionately looks at. They evince a sense of experimentation, of the sudden joy of seeing something in a new light or, more pertinently, in a new shadow.
Two things led to the exhibition, says Rai. Firstly, Diwan Manna, the president of Punjab Lalit Kala Akademi and an old friend of his, with whom he has travelled and photographed extensively, presented him during the pandemic with a large collection of photographs of him, taken by Manna himself and several other friends over the years. Secondly, and this is clearly of greater interest to the photographer, it was about compiling his self-portraits that were a testament to the variety of places and situations he was in while in search of images. Getting up before sunrise to photograph, he would see his shadow falling long on the landscape. He kept coming across his reflections while photographing. “I couldn’t avoid him. He kept appearing in my images,” says Rai, as though it was somebody else in the photographs. “So I thought, why not make a book on thyself.” A book compiling all these images is in the works and the exhibited images, says Rai, are only a small part of it.
“Self-portraits are about how you perceive yourself as a human being. But unless you can take them to a higher level of meaning and understanding, they would only be boring and self-indulgent. They have to be great images as well,” says the photographer about the art of self-portraiture in an age of selfies. Rai made his first serious self-portrait in 1965 -- which is also on display -- when one of his editors at The Statesman, where he was the chief photographer, wanted a photo of him for a feature.
Getting close for a photo
Reminiscing about a time when his contemporaries were photographers such as his brother S Paul, Yog Joy or Kishor Parekh, to name a few, he says that photojournalism was more intimate and “truthful” back then. “We were five or six feet away from people like Indira Gandhi or Narasimha Rao. But now, for security reasons, no one is allowed near the big guys. Also, there are too many photographers in any given situation, making it chaotic. There is little chance to make personal connections. If you are not close enough, your photographs are not good enough.” The exhibition is also a nod to these great Indian photographers who have passed.
The exhibition traces the life of Rai, who is, as Singh says, a “living legend” for photography enthusiasts across the world, while also offering a peek into what was perhaps the golden era of photography, when photographers were equally at ease bearing witness to life in remote villages or the city streets and in the corridors of power.
‘Raghu Rai: Photographed’ is on at PHOTOINK, A-4, Green Avenue Street, Vasant Kunj, till March 2