Before they vanish

A British photographer captures some of the occupations that seem to be fading into oblivion.

Languages cease to be spoken, customs are not passed on, old buildings are torn down to make way for new. Another addition to these casualties of progress is professions — and Clare Arni, a British photographer who has made Bangalore her home for the past 25 years, has set out to document some of these vanishing occupations. Arni, whose work has appeared in Conde Nast, Tatler and the Harvard Design Magazine, says she got the idea for the series in Mumbai. “I was in the city to shoot for an exhibition commissioned by Max Mueller Bhawan on urban change, and noticed that many traditional occupations also seemed to be vanishing,” says Arni who has solo photography books on excavations in Hampi and a four-month journey along the course of the river Cauvery to her credit. Inspiration became reality and the first exhibition of the series was held in 2008, with photographs shot in Bangalore, Delhi, Kolkata and Chennai. In the second series, currently on view at Gallery Sumukha, she documents the vanishing professions of Mumbai, Goa and Jaipur. The photographs are in both colour and black & white.

The Koli fishing community — the original inhabitants of Mumbai — Iranian cafes, abandoned mills and the old single-screen halls form the centrepiece of the section on the city — rather predictable choices, as their existence on the periphery has been previously documented. Zubin Pastakia’s 2009 series “Cinemas Project,” for example, comes to mind. But some of Arni’s depiction goes beyond the usual and makes for lovely photographs, as in the picture of colour-coded fishing baskets of Koli women, hanging from a tree, and that of bombil fish drying on bamboo frames on Madh Island, with the city across the sea in the background.

The next set, on Goa, has more unusual subjects, such as that of Jaimala Bartake, World Princess, who used to make shell craft, something that would be familiar to anyone who has browsed in the many shops selling handicrafts in Goa. The diminutive figure in her living room filled with kitsch, and what seems to be giant shell ornament hanging from the ceiling, conveys the air of melancholia one would associate with such a theme. The title “World Princess” comes from the sign outside her house. When asked why, Bartake, the accompanying text says, replied with a smile “why not.” Another arresting photograph is that of a sewing machine, belonging to Elmech sewing machine repair shop in Mapusa. One photo that seemed puzzling for its choice of subject is of a coffin shop — one would think that is one profession for which there would always be demand. It’s the same with some of the Jaipur photographs, such as those of a meenakari jeweller. But Arni explains, “I’ve also looked at the nature of the profession — it’s not just about those that are disappearing but also about the ones that are changing and becoming more generic.”

Another interesting subject, and photograph, is “Lucky, The Last Elephant in Jaipur.” This was the result of a newspaper article Arni and her sister and researcher Oriole Henry came across while in the city. The national heritage tag that elephants earned meant Lucky would no longer be able to take tourists for rides, having instead, to spend her life outside the old city.

Henry worked with Arni, researching and interviewing the subjects and writing the accompanying text, some of which is as interesting as the photographs and help put them in perspective. The interviews, says Arni, come first. She then shoots her subjects while they are at work. “It is important to put people in their work setting. I try not to disturb them much,” she says.

Arni plans to shoot her next series in Hyderabad and Ahmedabad and is in talks with publishers for a book. “The photographs here are just a fraction of what I’ve shot,” she says.

(“The Disappearing Professions of Mumbai, Goa and Jaipur” will be on view at Gallery Sumukha, BTS Depot Road, Wilson Garden till September 23)