Home is where the heart is - Clare Arni

People everywhere always seem to be asking themselves and those around them whether chasing passion and turning it into a career option is a smart plan, or is it being a bit too unrealistic? Some of them settle for safer jobs that assure a decent paycheck, but others pursue their passion actively and follow their instincts. Clare Arni, a Bangalore-based full time photographer fits well into the latter group.“I had no cunning plan. I sort of stumbled into photography. For a long time, I was scared that this big, giant foot would come and say ‘Get a job!’”

Fortunately for her, ever since she took up photography as a career, there’s been no looking back. Since her independent work alone doesn’t help her earn a living, she gets involved in commissioned projects as well. This includes architectural photography, which helps architectural firms document their work. “When you drive through Bangalore now, you see some generic glass structures. But this city has some very interesting work. Some of the young architects I work with now are doing some wild stuff,” she says.

Having grown up in Peru, India and England where her roots can be traced to, Clare says she feels more at home in India than anywhere else. “As a child, I spent nine years in Madurai where my father worked. So when I went to study in England, I had a Tamilian accent and people kept asking me if I was Welsh,” she says, slipping into laughter, her eyes wandering nostalgically. In fact, work took her back to Madurai recently where she shot the Madurai Meenakshi wedding festival. “Meenakshi was a real warrior goddess. The legend goes that she was born with three breasts and when she met the man who was ‘right’ for her, one breast disappeared,” she says.Although Clare’s initial years into photography were spent doing fashion photography with Prasad Bidappa, she soon realised that her heart lay elsewhere.

“There are two types of photography, one of which is studio-based. It’s a glamourous one, in the comfort of the AC. But I chose to trudge around dusty streets in my rubber chappals. What’s brilliant about India is that I can shoot here till the end of my life and there would still be enough material for me to shoot. Also, you meet so many fabulous people.” Clare takes me by surprise when she breaks into fluent Tamil while speaking to her domestic help. In fact, she speaks a bit of Kannada as well. “Since I do a lot of grass root level work, knowing Kannada helps... all doors open to you,” she says.

But what gets Clare really excited is what she calls her pet project, a series of photographs titled ‘Disappearing Professions in Urban India’. Creatively collaborating with her sister Oriole Henry who does the research work, Clare began by looking at trades that were historically and traditionally associated with a city. “It is an interesting way to understand a city... what makes it tick, what makes it grow. The trigger for me was an exhibition last year on urban changes. I documented the silk industry here in Bangalore, one of the oldest trades that’s struggling to survive. I’ve been here for 20 years now, and I wondered suddenly, where are all those guys who mend buckets, who fluff mattresses,” she says. For this project she clicked in four Indian cities — Chennai, Bangalore, Delhi and Calcutta.

“I’m not doing this for nostalgia you know. I’m a modern chick, like anyone else. But the people who are involved in these professions, they are passionate about their work, struggling against all odds.” Clare usually doesn’t take her camera out in the beginning. She indulges in a lot of conversation, understands the nature of their work, gets acquainted and then asks them if they mind being clicked. “I take quite a bit of time to shoot and I don’t want to be intrusive. Of course, photographers are intrusive, but still...”

With malls springing up in every corner and chain stores spreading like a wild rash, craftsmen and skilled labourers are getting marginalised. Mass produced goods have caught the fancy of today’s urban consumer, leaving very little room for specialised skills to thrive. Thematically, this is what Clare has set out to document. She is also exploring how often such trades have tried to find ways to adapt in order to survive. Her solo exhibition which travelled across India, consisting of 70 photographs of disappearing professions, is already sold out. In the next few months, Clare is planning to travel to work on a book that focuses on the culture of South Canara. “Now I’ve realised that I don’t want to just shoot buildings, sculptures and various historical sites. I want to put people in it.” So this time around, she intends to look into how they lead their lives, more in depth, and record them living and breathing cultural heritage.

While we discuss distinct religious and cultural practices that still prevail in parts of India, Clare says, “What’s special about India is that everybody’s still doing what used to do... and they want to, they take pride in that.” And it dawns on you that the emotional connect of a person with a place or its people doesn’t really depend on where they are from, the colour of their skin or their religion. It boils down to who they are and who they aspire to be. After all, home is where the heart is.
Check out Clare's work at http://www.clarearni.com/