Features sculptures, paintings, installations, photographs and more from artist Surendra Pal Joshi’s collection

How do you visually describe the pain of being hit by endless drops of water? Unabated rains lash you — the feeling is akin to bring pricked by a thousand needles. In June 2013, it rained incessantly for days in Uttarakhand: on June 17, the State received 375% more rainfall than the benchmark rainfall during normal monsoons, according to the India Disaster Report, 2013.

In Uttara Museum of Contemporary Art in Dehradun, thousands of safety pins hang on the wall, imitating a cascade of water, in a reimagination of the disaster that killed at least 5,700 people. The destructive force of water becomes a life-giver once it calms down — in this installation by artist Surendra Pal Joshi, titled ‘Paani’, the mad rush of water represented by safety pins changes into something peaceful as it drips into the six beakers placed below.

Inaugurated a year ago by Chief Minister Trivendra Singh Rawat, the State-run museum has been dubbed India’s first ‘disaster museum’. It features 50 multi-dimensional and multimedia works including sculptures, paintings, murals, installations, digital-print photographs and videos from Joshi’s collection. They constitute the artist’s reflections and responses to the devastation and rescue efforts he had witnessed during his visits to the ravaged mountains in the aftermath of the 2013 floods.

Surendra Pal Joshi at work. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

I am late when I visit the museum in August — Joshi passed away in June this year. I meet his wife Sangeeta Joshi, who had accompanied the artist on his many visits to Kedarnath, Yamunotri and Gangotri after the floods. “Surendra was thinking of developing a museum dedicated to his homeland Uttarakhand since 2012. In 2013, this disaster happened, and soon after he decided to create art that would serve as a testament to the destruction for later years when it would fade from people’s memory,” says Sangeeta.

Joshi, an acclaimed artist, changes the ordinary into extraordinary. Right at the entrance to the gallery, there is a gleaming helicopter made of over one lakh safety pins, stainless steel and acrylic sheets.

A helicopter installation. | Photo Credit: Jayraj Singh Parmar

The installation is a tribute to the helicopters that navigated fog, rain and treacherous Himalayan terrain to airlift about 23,892 people. The choppers air-dropped 650tonnes of relief material, but didn’t always escape the disaster themselves — one MiG-17 aircraft crashed in bad weather, killing 20 people on board, all rescuers.

I am curious about Joshi’s choice of safety pins. A safety pin goes unnoticed unless someone looks for it while a helicopter races across the sky, making itself heard and seen. “A safety pin is a necessity in women’s lives in the villages of Uttarakhand,” says Sangeeta. “Safety pins are used to fasten and fix torn clothes; they give them a sense of security. Likewise, the helicopter too was a symbol of hope during the Kedarnath tragedy. It speaks of human labour, struggle and continued existence.”

Memory mountains

On the opposite wall, there is a three-part painting on Kedarnath, an ensemble of vibrant colours, true to the spirit of this pilgrimage place. Kedarnath temple is smeared in bright red, interspersed with yellow representing the marigolds that devotees cover it with every day. According to legend, a boulder got stuck behind the Kedarnath temple in June 2013, and protected it from the floods. The boulder is now a bright yellow halo shining behind the temple in Joshi’s frame.

Ghilda Lady Companion, one of Joshi’s installations. | Photo Credit: Jayraj Singh Parmar

As I wander around the museum, I see an installation titled ‘The Abode’ — it’s a double-storied Garhwali village house that stands half-collapsed. Deodar wood has been used to make the house; the roof is of slate stones, which were carried from the villages of Yamunotri for authenticity; corn cobs hang from the sides, ready for harvest; water is represented by ropes that loop in and out of the house.

The museum is a reflection on the paradox that the same mountains that make Uttarakhand the land of gods can also break it apart. Ink, watercolour, pastel, everything spells this out. And it is such a disaster that has fuelled these memories and inspired the art.

A journalist based in Uttarakhand, the writer explores the lives of those who walk mountains.