Installation view of Anubhooti, at Bountiful Davis Art Center, featuring ceramics by Antra Sinha and audio by Megan Simper

Artworks are vessels of mystery. How could they not be when no one really knows where they come from or how they get here? Even so, there’s an uncommon amount of mystery in the front gallery at BDAC this month. Artist Antra Sinha and musician Megan Simper have installed a body of work with titles in Hindi, evoking the charm of words from distant times and places. They don’t have precise equivalents in English: one source gives no less than eight meanings for Anubhooti, as well as several spellings. In any event, they have chosen not to translate the titles of the nine clay sculptures, but to give their names in Hindi only.

There are, of course, plentiful sources in English where the curious can learn the identities of the nine canonical emotions, each of which is embodied in one of Sinha’s clay vessels. She has suggested, rather, that those uninitiated in Hindu culture might better view her works in terms of contrasts between, for example, masculine and feminine energies. However, to do so is risky in light of the recent social realization that gender is largely a cultural invention.

It may, then, be useful to take these clay pots as abstractions, to be interpreted by each viewer in intimate, personal ways. Actually, a portion of every encounter with art should be reserved for such an experience.

Antra Sinha, “Shanti”

All the figures were first sculpted in clay, then fired in a kiln where the fuel, burning wood, produced the striking variations in color as well as drips and other features where the glaze melted and ran. Texture is also a factor in these figures. The whole process parallels what happens to living things as they begin life. Members of each species start with predominantly the same DNA, which is subject to accidents and errors along the way to becoming an individual. Likewise, the clay body follows a design, but is then subjected to various bumps, scorches, and chemical reactions in the fiery kiln, which gives the finished object great character and beauty. Thus each of the nine objects is, like each living plant or animal, an event never to be repeated.

The wide variations in form and ornament may initially confuse the eye, causing the viewer to wonder if there’s a theme that connects them. All but two have a shape that resembles a human body: that is, they stand upright on one end and have a narrowing where a waist would be, with a pod-like swelling below and an elaborated upper part that may be compared to a torso and head. “Shingara,” “Shanti,” and “Bhayanaka” are complete in one piece, while the other four of these similar objects divide into a pot with what looks to be a lid. The remaining two, “Raudra” and “Veera,” are open bowls, each with six squash-like fins.

What gives half of them a stronger sense of human form is the presence of handle-like projections that strongly resemble arms. “Shanti,” the closest to a specific figure, has a two-part glazing that strongly resembles a garment, from which the head seems to emerge complete with a white bump that resembles a nose. Several places where the clay remains bare, one a “midriff,” reveal that what appears to be decoration incised in the glaze is probably combing applied to the clay beneath. This is the only place in the series where raw clay is visible. It’s also the one that most invokes the quality of a living figure, with hands on hips suggesting a confrontational posture, or a fashion model, or perhaps a stern bird.

Considerably more contemplation than this failed to discover a familiar subject or story. Perhaps these are parts of a story or participants in a ritual the artists do not wish to share with an anonymous audience. There are many examples of such things, which are often exhibited for their own virtues or in search of others in the know. It’s not possible to say, nor can we know why the accompanying music by Megan Simper, which is available online using a QR code displayed in the gallery, isn’t being played aloud instead. It may be that this or another venue requested that the music be restricted to earbuds and personal listening. It’s unfortunate that whatever atmospheric or meditative contribution it might make is not available.

The important point is that these objects have real presence and a feeling of age and experience, with a power to communicate regardless of comprehension on a literal level. They’re beautiful, and well worth sharing space with.

Anubhooti, Bountiful Davis Art Center, Bountiful, through Dec. 22.

All images courtesy of the author.

Geoff Wichert

Geoff Wichert objects to the term critic. He would rather be thought of as a advocate on behalf of those he writes about.