

Reviews
In his remarkable 2019 debut feature film Soundless Dance, Raveendran narrates the horror of the Vanni genocide (2008-2009) through two physically and politically vastly different places. Thousands of kilometers apart, both lands are bridged by a young refugee who sleepwalks through them, neatly weaving them into a single landscape that is inhabited by a torn, oppressed and uprooted people who are seeking stability, safety and a future across these grounds.
READMourning from a Distance: A Review of Pradeepan Raveendran’s ‘Soundless Dance’
Though ‘Soundless Dance’ is now six years old, it is a film many Eelam Tamil viewers and others remain to date unfortunately unaware of. By inviting us to observe a genocide from outside its centre of violence, the director of the film artfully manages to show viewers the actual reach of weapons and the costs of state crimes to concerned and displaced people.
History, in the work of Amjad, is incomplete without memory and the collection of subliminal voices within the annals of time. Memory is not restricted to the singular phenomenon of evoking nostalgia, but is a significant conduit in Amjad’s work used to help construct and situate oneself in the present moment.
READSubliminal Spaces & the (Re)Collecting of Identity: A Review of Uzair Amjad’s The Terrain Between
Uzair Amjad’s The Terrain Between explores colonial legacies, migration, and diasporic identity through evocative paintings. By layering personal and historical narratives, the exhibit conjures subliminal spaces where memory, displacement, and transformation shape the collective present.
Toxic mirrors the spirits of a society learning to navigate freedom while haunted by an unresolved past. Here, the idea of the West glimmers like a distant oasis—a place of glossy dreams and bright promises that never quite materialise, as for many, those dreams soon meet harsh reality.
READA Dance of Intimacy, Ambition and Despair: A Review of Saulė Bliuvaitė’s Toxic
In Saulė Bliuvaitė’s film ‘Toxic’, friendship and rivalry weave together in a complex dance, an intricate play of support and silent competition. Filled with both violence and tender moments, in the film it emerges as a fragile lifeline.
The main exhibition, “an operatic exhibition about the space we live in”, is housed in the Gwangju Biennale Exhibition Hall. Its galleries present significant challenges due to their modular white walls and vast areas to fill. This is likely why the main exhibition includes works by 72 artists from 30 countries. The 15th Gwangju Biennale is not the only large-scale exhibition to challenge the concept of a “static exhibition,” but it stands out for its innovative approach. The main exhibition shifts focus from the dominant sense of sight to other senses, particularly listening, based on the visitors’ mobility. Constructed as “a narrative,” the venues connect musical and visual forms.
READListening to the World: A Geopolitical Lens on the Gwangju Biennale
The 15th Gwangju Biennale, marking its 30th anniversary, focuses on sound and ecological themes. Rooted in South Korea’s democracy movement and the 1980 Gwangju Uprising, does the Biennale continue to uphold its founding declaration of a “living memorial” or sidestep the political?
Bulgaria as a space and a nation had a profound impact on the way I embody myself and shaped and reshaped my sense of national identity. To this day, I remember sitting on my grandmother’s lap in 2006 on New Year’s Eve in my house, awaiting the beginning of the new chapter in Bulgarian history—our ascension to the European Union. For a country that was not a direct participant in the colonial project of Western Europe and so often described as a part of the “margins” of Europe, this geography, which I was living in, would finally be put on the world map. Or so I believed.
READBulgarian Pavillion’s ‘The Neighbours’: Bridging the Memory Archipelago of the Bulgarian Communist Past
This is not a review of the Bulgarian pavilion but a challenge to deal with history’s silences, recognize my family’s past, and find the connections and bridges between my two bodies. One seeing and one actively articulating my positionality in the world in relation to the notion of nationhood, identity and language, which I was prescribed — Bulgarian Turkish.
The experiences narrated in the exhibition seek to reshape these power dynamics and effect a decolonization from a Western anthropological gaze that is as exhausting and draining as any other toxic work environment. But is this comparison even adequate given that the Qworkaholics’ relationship with the outside world is suffused with oppression and social mistreatment at the most basic (desire, instinct, sensibility) level? How can these relationships be reshaped if burnout is at the very core of one’s existence, not just a part of it?
READAnarchitecture of Desire: A Review of Resonance Beyond Escape – Qworkaholics Anonymous III
Qworkaholics are victims of various colonial systems of power whose “primary occupation” is the struggle for survival in the present-day world, which systematically is “othering” them, subjecting their bodies, identities and affects to daily violence and oppression. Can the mundane drudgery of Western consumer culture that is oppressive and exploitative as the colonial systems be challenged through visual and physical forms that reflect the actual choreography of living and sensing?
How will Flow Festival respond to criticisms about its relationships with its free workforce, security contractors, Helsinki Police and its Zionist holding company? Will it align with or distance itself from the actions and affiliations of its financial backers?
READFlow Festival: A Retrospective
Billion-euro changes in Flow Festival’s ownership signal a strong intent to continue commercializing. The Flow Festival, the locals once cherished, has been hollowed out by business interests and now emits the stench of globalist capital.
The extent of ongoing and increasing repression of artistic freedom in Germany had caught some of the visitors by surprise. With each story of censorship brought to ABSENCED, Germany’s otherwise strong frameworks for expressing political opinions and artistic creativity got called out. Moreover, with a minimum or no interference from the curator as well as the library staff in the choice of works sent in by the artists, ABSENCED created a platform for artists to freely articulate themselves and their rights to ultimate freedom of expression.
READThis High Ground of Neutrality: A Review of the ABSENCED Exhibition at Malmö City Library
Amid cascading censorship incidents of pro-Palestinian voices in Germany, especially since October 7th, Malmö City Library hosted an exhibition featuring artists and works that have been subject to ‘cultural cancellation’ by various German institutions. The southern Swedish municipality, however, in deciding to host this performative exhibition, non-deliberately also highlighted the contradictions in its armlängds avstånd (‘an arm’s length distance’) principle, a cherished tenet of Sweden’s cultural policies.
Kinari’s music is a radical sonic collision between her life in Delhi’s Khirki Extension in her lyrics and an intentional and intelligent reckoning with her Tamizh cultural and musical heritage through her use of parai drum beats, and gaan-inspired compositions. It is a raw and unflinching exploration of her life and is unapologetically transgressive. By blending streetwise lyrics with traditional rhythms, she creates a sound that is both familiar and revolutionary.
READA Debut of Power, Politics, and Possibility: Reviewing Kinari’s full-length album ‘KATTAR KINNAR’
Transgender rapper and 2024 Toto Music Awardee Kinari’s debut album, KATTAR KINNAR, is a defiant proclamation of identity that challenges societal norms and inspires a new generation of artists. Launched at Mujrevali Madhuri with an opening mujra performance by acclaimed trans dancer Khushi Shaikh, the album is a sonic revolution. A deep dive into Kinari’s work reveals an artist who defies expectations and commands attention. Can her fearless lyrics and innovative sound redefine the boundaries of Indian hip-hop?
An activation by Palestinian artists Maen Hammad, Dina Salem, Sari Tarazi, and Ahmad Alaqra was hosted at DoubleDummy, Arles, between July 1-7, 2024, during the opening week of the Rencontres d’Arles. It conveys a timeline of the ongoing genocide in Gaza using information shared via alternative messaging platforms like Telegram.
READRadical Re-imagining of Visual Order Amid the Ongoing Genocide of Palestinians: A Review of ‘Against Abstraction’
An activation by Palestinian artists Maen Hammad, Dina Salem, Sari Tarazi, and Ahmad Alaqra was hosted at DoubleDummy, Arles, between July 1-7, 2024, during the opening week of the Rencontres d’Arles. It conveys a timeline of the ongoing genocide in Gaza using information shared via alternative messaging platforms like Telegram.
“Home” and “belonging” are peaceful, positive keywords that can cover up issues related to much less pleasant things, such as nationalism, racism, exclusion, housing commodification, power and control.
READHome Without Journey: A Review of Kiasma’s ‘Feels Like Home’ & Artsi’s ‘My Home Somewhere’
Given that concepts like ‘home’ and ‘belonging’ are used so frequently, is it still possible to do something new and impactful with them? And, if that is possible, what conditions would allow such categories to be revitalised through contemporary art and have an effect?
If the problems that individuals face in their personal lives are rooted in systemic issues, then it is unrealistic to expect them to find lasting solutions solely through individual self-improvement efforts. Individual change is not simply a matter of personal effort but is also shaped by the broader social conditions that individuals find themselves in. Abril’s work highlights this hypocrisy of the oppressor in a perverted patriarchal society in which women are blamed and ridiculed for showing symptoms of distress—Mass Hysteria.
READOur Bodies Protest on Our Behalf: A Review of ‘Laia Abril – On Mass Hysteria’
Laia Abril’s work On Mass Hysteria at The Festival of Political Photography challenges the focus on individual diagnosis, prompting the question, can photography be a tool for social diagnosis and change?