Picturing the Sacred Kumbh Mela Festival: Interview with Guillaume Ziccarelli
Shalu, Manisha, Rishika, 2020. C-Print Fujicrystal mat. Courtesy of the artist and Perrotin.
Interview conducted by Kayla Herrera-Daya
In his most recent creative work, The Holy Third Gender: Kinnar Sadhu, Guillaume Ziccarelli travels to Allahabad, India to photograph a historic moment in Hindu culture — the acceptance of transgender Sahdus, considered holy people, in the sacred Kumbh Mela festival. His portraits capture an often lost identity, stand firmly and apart from life as we know it, one doused in ego, for those he photographs live outside rather than in, but perhaps appreciate the body in a way many of us never will, as the game we subscribe to seems to be abandoned in Allahabad.
MUSÈE: There’s a vastness in your work, and considering you’ve done many projects, both commercial and artistic, how do you choose which ideas to act on?
Ziccarelli: Both are really linked for me. I do put as much effort into both. I love the pressure you have with more commercial assignments, with deadlines and working with the different clients or artists who are involved. And I also do love to feel free to create when I begin an artistic project for myself.
Rishika, 2020. Digital pigment print. 90 x 60 cm | 35 7/16 x 23 5/8 in. Courtesy of the artist and Perrotin.
MUSÈE: How did you first hear about the Kumbh Mela Festival, and what drew you to creating work based around it?
Ziccarelli: I heard about it around 2008, and at the time, I just learned that a massive festival was about to happen. The idea of 100 million people gathering in one place for a festival was thrilling to me then. And it really does create an energy that is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, particularly when you see the multi-generational families of pilgrims who have walked for weeks to get there, carrying bags on their heads, holding the hands of little children and the elderly, come to clean their sins in the Ganga River. Their joy and celebration once they’ve arrived is palpable. Before I left for India, a remarkable thing happened: For the first time, transgender women priests were officially accepted to participate in the festival. When I learned that, I decided I had to go there myself, and try to meet this holy third gender.
Kinnar Alter, 2020. C-Print Fujicrystal mat. 40 x 60 cm | 15 3⁄4 x 23 5/8 in. Courtesy of the artist and Perrotin.
MUSÈE: Your exhibition explores gender outside a Western gaze and suggests a sense of intersectionality. Did you carry any expectations going into Kumbh Mela Festival, and what was your biggest takeaway from the experience?
Ziccarelli: Perhaps not an expectation, but I felt a deep sense of respect and interest in an ancient culture and tradition that was willing to accept the third gender among its highest-ranking spiritual leaders. It seemed to me, that those of us in the West could also learn from this particular example of gender-fluid acceptance in India, though the hardships experienced by the LGBTQ community within Indian society remains an on-going struggle. As far as other expectations and take-aways: quite simply, the first thing I knew I had to do upon arrival, was to meet members of this community, and my hope was to befriend them. Not only did that happen, but they also accepted and welcomed me, and gave me a space within their camp, which was a huge honor, and made me feel that despite our obvious differences, I was not out of place, and nor was my hope to express what I had experienced there. I had won their approval, and that meant everything. So I set up a studio right in the middle of the desert, near the Ganga River. Not a bad spot to work!
Prachal, 2020. Digital pigment print. 90 x 60 cm | 35 7/16 x 23 5/8 in. Courtesy of the artist and Perrotin.
MUSÈE: The exhibition will be shown in New York City, what do you hope viewers in the United States will learn from it?
Ziccarelli: This series constitutes a Pantheon for me. I hope to show the dignity of these individuals who have experienced so much rejection, whether from their culture, religion, society and family. Here, I use portraiture much like religious iconography, portraying these individuals as the goddesses, which I feel they truly are, and which I hope others will be able to sense as well. I also hope American viewers understand with this exhibition, that for this community, the role as religious, spiritual leader is in fact one solution that allows them to live freely, and celebrate their trans identity. Unfortunately, outside the spiritual realm, the LGBTQ community in India suffers much abuse, and rejection from society. I learned that India’s third gender has found their own way of attaining a certain acceptance and respect. And I wonder if this idea, in some form or other, could spread elsewhere, even in the US. It’s an open question that I ask, really.
Fire Pit, 2020. C-Print Fujicrystal mat. 120 x 80 cm | 47 1/4 x 31 1/2 in. Courtesy of the artist and Perrotin.
MUSÈE: What was it like photographing, interviewing, and really working with people participating in the festival, including the role of Kinnar Sadhus?
Ziccarelli: It was both exciting, humbling, and emotionally intense, as a festival of this proportion and symbolic depth is designed to be, and very successfully so. In all my projects, and this is true for any photographer that is worth his or her weight, it’s critical to create a connection and understanding with the subject. That can sometimes be hard, particularly when you are met with hostility of any kind. But when, and if that happens, I just abandon my ego as best I can, and do what I hope my exhibited photographs will help viewers do: empathize, or work to understand, in one’s own way, the person looking across at us. I think that is ultimately all we can do in an entirely new place, faced with an entirely new experience. There is little room for the ego in the Kumbh Mela, and sometimes, that in itself is a powerful learning tool, especially in today’s tense social context. So I tend to follow where those around me are taking me, to try to see their perspectives. That sometimes means jumping in the Ganga River myself, naked, and maybe not documenting every minute with my camera. The Kinnar Sadhus were also riding on a wave of optimism, because it was the first time they’d been accepted in Allahabad. So I was able to witness that, and to see the fuel, and raw energy it gave them. This was a boost that they were not going to settle with. It meant other areas of life could become more tolerant for the LGBTQ community. It meant they were also loved and respected. It meant that for every negative glance, there were two other adoring ones. They sounded like leaders, and like goddesses to me. It’s a powerful thing to witness, and all just because they were accepted within a religious ceremony (however enormous this one was). It just goes to show, when you hold out a hand, the world can literally shift in a different direction.
Shalu, 2020. Digital pigment print. 90 x 60 cm | 35 7/16 x 23 5/8 in. Courtesy of the artist and Perrotin.
MUSÈE: How did you find a balance between surveillance and participation when documenting the festival?
Ziccarelli: I touched on this in other answers, but I do also like to enjoy the whole experience. And I think that after years of photographing, the swinging between surveillance and participation becomes more natural. You have to go with your instinct, I’d say, and that’s never been hard for me to do. [If anything, I don’t know how to do otherwise.] And then it becomes hard to turn off that third, surveillance eye, after years of exercising it.
MUSÈE: Were there any challenges you faced while documenting the festival? Your favorite memory from the festival?
Ziccarelli: A favorite and somewhat challenging moment was when I joined pilgrims bathing in the Ganga River, and I guess I was something of a sight, because 5000 naked Sadhus covered in gray ash started running toward me. I think it’s always a challenge to insert yourself as a complete outsider, into a situation like the ancient Kumbh Mela festival. But I was accepted in the end, and have made friends who showed me true resilience and grace. I call them goddesses, because that is the impression they gave so many, and to me, but of course they are human beings, and nobody is all perfection and purity – thank goodness. I hope some of that can be felt in their portraits as well.
Manisha, 2020. Digital pigment print. 90 x 60 cm | 35 7/16 x 23 5/8 in. Courtesy of the artist and Perrotin.
MUSÈE: One of your past works, “House of Love,” explored sexuality and the trans identity in Paris. Do you reflect on that piece of work, or any other past projects, differently as you further explore sexuality?
Ziccarelli: Yes, in “House of Love,” I was once again attracted to the resilience and vitality of the trans community, as they struggled to live freely with their felt identities. So, rather than exploring sexuality on its own, I am more interested in how individuals express themselves as they see fit, and live as they choose. It just happens that the LGBTQ community is one group with a lot of experience with this particular quest for freedom, and self-expression. And despite conventional social restrictions, or being victim to discrimination and abuse, I try to find where trans individuals feel most free, and where they shine. And then I like to share that with viewers: so that even if others don’t completely relate to, or understand the person in the photograph, they might find something to hold onto, something that draws them in, and even connects them, however tentatively, to that other person, who of course, isn’t all that different.
The Holy Third Gender: Kinnar Sadhu will be on view at the Perrotin Gallery from July 9 through August 14. Learn more about Guillaume Ziccarelli here.
