The ongoing Kochi-Muziris Biennale, under the curatorial vision of artist Nikhil Chopra, is consciously steering clear of polished spectacle. This edition trades wine and cheese for the local flavour of fried banana fritters, welcomes a curator in shorts, and embraces artworks that are unfinished or still evolving. In an exclusive conversation, Chopra elaborated on his intent to blur established hierarchies and present contemporary art as a dynamic, lived experience rather than a fixed commodity.
Dismantling Hierarchies and Expanding Definitions
As a pioneer of performance art in India, Nikhil Chopra's curation is a natural extension of his practice, which has included seminal acts like eating and sleeping at New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art to interrogate colonial legacies. His aim for the Biennale is to actively expand the definition of art. He is particularly interested in hybrid forms that defy neat categorization, citing the example of French artist Uriel Barthélémi, whose work blends drumming, composition, experimental percussion, and programmed visual generation into a single, multisensory performance.
This philosophy extends to the artist selection by his team from HH Art Spaces. The Biennale deliberately places internationally renowned figures like Marina Abramović alongside emerging artists without gallery representation. "It was very much about dismantling hierarchy," Chopra states. This approach levels the playing field, pushes against gatekeeping, and allows younger voices to engage in dialogue with art history on equal footing.
Art in Flux: Embracing Time and the Local
The Biennale's theme, 'For the Time Being,' centrally engages with ephemerality. Chopra describes it as a series of moments with a defined beginning and end. Art here is dynamic, with time itself becoming a material. He points to Belgian-Nigerian artist Otobong Nkanga's freshly planted garden at Aspinwall House, which will grow and change throughout the Biennale's three-month run, and Argentine artist Adrián Villar Rojas's installation with decaying food in obsolete fridges.
The city of Kochi is not just a backdrop but a co-creator. Ghanaian artist Ibrahim Mahama, for instance, sourced local jute sacks stamped with trade histories to transform a Mattancherry warehouse into his 'Parliament of Ghosts.' Many artists worked closely with local students, carpenters, and technicians. "This exhibition was made collectively, with the city," Chopra emphasizes, noting that all contributors are credited in wall texts and the catalogue.
Demystifying Art for Everyone
Chopra is unfazed by visitors who lack an 'arty' vocabulary. He champions the openness of first-time viewers, locals, and tourists who engage on their own terms. "Someone told me they didn’t understand everything, but they understood what they liked, and that was enough," he shares. This inclusive spirit is core to the Biennale's function: to demystify the making and experiencing of art.
Even the visible unfinished state of some works at the opening aligns with this vision. The curatorial note invited the public into the process, allowing them to witness adjustments and tuning. The Biennale positions itself as an activation space that evolves over time. While it operates outside the direct commercial art market, Chopra acknowledges artists' need for sustainability, viewing a healthy relationship with the market as a potential agency for creators.
Ultimately, for Chopra, the Biennale's role is to instill faith that art and poetry are essential. It aims to create a safe, open space for poetic conversations on caste, gender, patriarchy, and sexuality, breaking away from the 'white cube' of traditional galleries to make art feel lived, shared, and profoundly human.
