Synopsis
City of Photos explores the
little known ethos of neighborhood photo studios
in Indian cities, discovering entire imaginary
worlds in the smallest of spaces. Tiny, shabby
studios that appear to be stuck in a time warp
turn out to be places throbbing with energy. As
full of surprises as the people who frequent these
studios are the backdrops they enjoy posing against
and the props they choose. These afford fascinating
glimpses into individual fantasies and popular
tastes. Yet beneath the fun and games runs an
undercurrent of foreboding. Not everyone enjoys
being photographed; not every backdrop is beautiful;
not all photos are taken on happy occasions. The
cities in which these stories unfold themselves
become backdrops, their gritty urban reality a
counterpoint to the photo palaces. Desires, memories
and stories, all so deeply linked to the photographic
experience, come together as part of a personal
journey into the city of photos.
When I started researching this film, people
would ask me what it was about and I’d say
“photo studios”. Sometimes it was
as vague as “photos and memories”,
or “looking at photos to see how people
like to be photographed, their fantasies etc”.
But the reactions always amazed me. Everyone would
say, “Hey, that sounds fascinating!”
or “How interesting!” And they weren’t
just being polite.
 This
enthusiasm was a bit scary. I wondered what everybody
found so exciting. I was still struggling with
the idea of the film myself, doing an open-minded
recce and reading all sorts of photography-related
books. So I had no idea what film all these people
were seeing in their heads, but I began to realize
one thing quite strongly—that my film had
better have a sense of all those other films in
it!
Of course, the general fascination had one easy
explanation. Taking or posing for photos, or looking
at family albums—these are universal experiences,
and each photo is a site of remembrances. If photos
have a special place in our lives, we expect a
film that looks at personal photos to recreate
that special feeling. But how was I to do that?
How could I look at something so familiar without
making it mundane and predictable? How to represent
the whole experience of posing for photos so that
the viewer might feel the joy of recognition,
and perhaps something more?
It’s not as if I really asked these questions
and then set about to make a film that addressed
them. I can say in retrospect that what I did
was try to delve into why posed photo portraits
and photo studios fascinated me, and to hope that
what I found would have meaning and interest for
others as well.
I wanted to find out how photographs mirrored
people’s realities and dreams, and neighborhood
photo studios seemed like a good place to start.
I decided to concentrate on a few places, but
to look more closely. The first stop was Calcutta,
because it’s a city that has many old and
new studios, and also because it was essentially
here that photography started in India.
Also, the Centre for Studies in Social Science
had an extensive visual archive, and we met some
private collectors. In these collections we found
an amazing range of studio photographs spanning
over a century. But none of all this could be
made sense of without looking at the city itself,
and understanding its particular spirit. As I
moved from present-day studio photos into the
city itself, I discovered a place full of shifting
time zones, where the past is inextricably intertwined
with the present, where in the midst of extreme
dilapidation the most contemporary backdrops may
be found.
I was still looking for something more…a
studio that had a more personal relationship with
its clients; a place with a different dynamic
and rhythm. It was in a lower middle class area
of Ahmedabad that I came across a small studio,
central to the community around it. The photographer
not only knew many of his customers personally,
he was privy to their fantasies, and was able
to help them visualize their inner life through
the photographs he took of them. He was also engaged
with the people he lived among outside of his
professional studio work, documenting in stills
the aftermath of the communal violence they had
suffered. It is this connection of the photographer
with society, the fact that he is truly the custodian
of his people’s imaginings and images that
moved and excited me deeply.
 I
think what I enjoyed exploring were the dualities
inherent in photography. The stillness of photographs
coming in contact with motion of film accentuates
the friction caused by these dualities. Are photos
real, or illusory? Do they immortalize, or—capturing,
as they do, fleeting moments of life—are
they grim reminders of mortality?
It is the theme of absence that unites the variety
of photographic expressions in the film. Everywhere,
absences feed the fantasy machine—the absence
of the beloved, the absence of eyes on a dead
man, the absence of resources that could allow
us to travel to far off places or live in beautiful
homes, the absence of greenery in the urban landscape,
and even—from the beginnings of photography
to the present—the absence of choice in
facing the lens. It is in these implicit areas
of longing and freedom that the political impinges
on the personal.
The people, places, events and photos in the
film are a happy (I think!) blend of what I looked
for and what happened to find me. The filmmaker
takes on many roles--from an old woman remembering
her visits to a photo studio as a child, to an
old man talking about his response to matrimonial
picture of his wife when he was nineteen. The
narration idiomatically shifts between the “You”
and the “I” collapsing the distance
between self and other, enabling individual photographic
experiences to enter the space of collective memory
and desire.
The film is currently being screened at private
screenings and Film Festivals at home and abroad,
and most viewers seem to find things that satisfy,
amaze, intrigue, or disturb them. It premiered
in IDFA, Amsterdam; Since then it has been shown
in 1001 documentary fest, Istanbul; GIFT, Taiwan;
and will be shown in Docfest, Munich; Documenta,
Madrid; Golden Apricot, Armenia; Ecofilms, Greece
and several other festivals.
Nishtha Jain started her career as an
editor and correspondent for video newsmagazines
before joining the Film and Television Institute
of India (FTII), specializing in Film Direction.
Her diploma film Jam Invalid won the
Gold Plaque at the Chicago International Film
festival in 1999. Since then she has made several
documentaries for Television and worked briefly
as Executive Producer for a documentary channel
‘Chakra’.
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