An eclectic collection of artwork on display at the College of Fine Arts’ annual show in Thiruvananthapuram

SEE is the annual show at the College of Fine Arts that features works by students and faculty

One of the first characters you meet at SEE is a terracotta sculpture by Ebin PR. Clothes wrinkled, the man sits listlessly in his chair. As you face him, you get the sense that you are blocking his view. His gaze is more intense than yours. SEE, the annual show presented by the students and faculty of the College of Fine Arts, Thiruvananthapuram, leaves you hanging.

Perhaps the charm of the show is its unwillingness to decode itself for the viewer. Many of the pieces, over 235 of them, are untitled. There is little to no explanation of content or context beyond a note with the artist’s name and the medium; the piece speaks for itself. The artwork is curious, disquieting, and altogether fantastic.

In one room, a terracotta head swivels to greet you. “I’m very self-obsessed,” says artist Chandan Gour lightly. “These are all self-portraits from my childhood.” He is talking about a collection of six life-size figures in various stages of completion and damage. The figure at the centre has a rotating head. Hailing from a family of artisans, his project continues its tradition while incorporating modern elements. There is a curious seventh piece next to these figures — a pile of broken limbs and terracotta shards. “It was a figure like the rest which was broken during the show. I decided to keep it. It’s still a part of the work. Besides, a lot of sculptures in historic sites and museums are broken.”

Sandra Thomas, who creates paper sculptures, also leans into the fragility of her work. Her piece, AM Agenda, features a life-size model of a rubber plantation worker and his dog. At first glance, it is impossible to not mistake it for an actual person. “Most sculptures are made of heavier materials. Made of a lightweight object like paper, the longevity of this sculpture is in question. It is a temporary piece,” she says. The focus of her art is on the everyday moments of working-class people.

Everyday life also finds its place in Eswar D’s art. Bent out of shape, a large granite key lies at the centre of his piece. The key is surrounded by plaster feet. “I wanted to depict how a mundane object like a key becomes central to your life. Even if it is old and battered, its absence makes you anxious. You walk around the house, looking for it.” It tells us how the person, represented through the plaster feet, is more fragile than the dependable granite of the key.

The technicolour world of Athul KP’s work illustrates a lack of control. “It is about the tangled experiences of life when you know what you should do but cannot. Sometimes, things just don’t move the way you want them to.” He uses a mix of acrylics and oil paints to recreate suffocation akin to a nightmare. The abstract nature of his work prioritises intensity of experience over literality.

Personal experience shapes art even in Rahul Buski’s work. “There is a violence to my art,” he says. Thalum thakraum represents Adivasi’s life through unique brushstrokes and dark hues. The violence that the Adivasi community faces is an undercurrent in all his works. If you look closely, you will notice that varambu — the ridges used to designate boundaries in fields — are a common feature in his art. In Rahul’s works, they are an ever-present reminder of the partitions in society. “It takes time to learn about yourself; your family, your education, your clothes, your food, your place in society.”