Review: Alwar Subramanium (original) (raw)

Our present is immersed in a giddy state of self-absorption and imbalance, where one hopes not to fall off the edge. In this world, “stillness”—in terms of geography, thought and being—is a position of privilege, and one that is acutely sentient. Such a space, both literally and metaphorically, can be entered through the many chapters of Alwar Balasubramaniam (Bala)’s artistic practice. His solo show, “Layers of Wind, Lines of Time,” at Talwar Gallery in New Delhi, functions essentially as a conduit into a larger narrative that Bala has been constructing over the years in his works. In what is seemingly an object-based practice, Bala’s strength lies in the materiality of his pieces. His process and ethos is the closest thing we have to the notion of gesture as “language.” His is a practice that makes us acutely conscious of the imperceptible—it is not so much a revelation as it is a reminder of how frayed our sense of perception is.